The Gladers
by Miccacode
Summary: The Gladers spent two years building a community, from kids left unconscious around the Box to a fully functioning world of their own. Thirty boys and one girl were left in the Glade for WICKED to study, and it was all they could do to survive.
1. Chapter 1: Arrival

Chapter 1: Arrival

She was lying on something hard. One of her arms was flung over her stomach, and the other spread out to the side. Dull sunlight shone behind her eyelids. She could smell animals, and hear the soft wanderings of several somethings with several feet.

She… she was unconscious? No, if she was unconscious, she wouldn't be having all these thoughts. She had been unconscious and now she was waking up. She willed her eyes to open. She thought they fluttered a bit. Her head twitched.

She. She was a she. She was a human she. She was lying on the ground and was waking up from being unconscious. Not the kind of unconscious that came with sleep, but the kind of unconsciousness that was artificially induced.

Roz. Her name was Roz.

Her min stretched, straining to think of anything else. She couldn't. Her mind and memory were blank. She was a human named Roz. She was a human named Roz who was lying on the ground waking up from being unconscious.

But that was all she knew. Her stomach tightened and her head twitched again. Finally, her eyes opened, and she looked up into a light blue sky. It was cloudless. She couldn't see the sun.

She sat up slowly, wincing at the twinge in her stiff neck. She looked around, and saw about thirty other people, all sitting up, with the same confused, slightly pained expressions on their faces. Everyone looked at everyone for a moment, and then took in their surroundings.

They were, indeed, lying (or, well, now sitting), on the ground. A stone ground with several weeds popping up through cracks. Animals trotted around them, sheep, horses, pigs. A dog barked at them once before going back to digging the hole he was occupied with. There were a few shacks dotted here and there. There was a set of trees in the corner of…

Of…

Surrounding them were four walls. Four walls towering higher than anything Roz had ever seen. Or… they would be, if she could remember anything. In each wall was a slit, like a doorway, leading into a dark corridor.

Roz frowned, and looked around at the other people on the ground. About thirty of them. All of them were teenagers. Kids. The youngest, she spotted, looked about… twelve? Freckled. Baby fat filling out his cheeks. Eyes wide with fear. The oldest… sixteen? Dark skin. A more chiselled face. Eyes flitting about suspiciously.

Something clicked in her mind.

They were all boys.

Roz searched all their faces again, hoping she was wrong. But no. there was not a single girl in sight. She looked down at herself. Maybe her mind was lying to her and she, too, was actually a boy.

Her legs were splayed out in front of her awkwardly. Heavy boots and thick socks… boys could wear those. Knobbly knees… a scar stretching up her left thigh… quite boyish. Denim shorts and a thick belt wrapped around hips… what did boys hips usually look like? A black t-shirt… she poked her stomach with thin fingers. She looked down at her chest.

Definitely not a boy then. She grimaced, and ran her hands through her hair. She was surprised to find it was short, ending at her chin. Somehow, even though she didn't remember knowing any other girls, she expected it to be typically long. She tugged a strand into her line of sight. Brown.

The silence suddenly broke as one of the boys scrabbled up, his feet scuffing along the stone and a confused, pained noise crawling up from his throat.

That spurred everyone else into motion.

Roz jumped up, standing with her feet planted firmly on the floor and her spine curled forward, protecting her front. She looked around, something deep in her mind telling herself she needed to keep herself safe. She took a few steps backwards, and bumped into something. Whirling around, she saw a boy with blonde hair, who had just jumped to see who he had bumped into. His eyebrow raised at her, and his questioning expression didn't hide the fear in his eyes.

People around them were babbling to themselves, looking around in fear. Roz stared at the boy for a moment, before shooting off the side, curling in on herself and protecting herself again. The boy watched her, but didn't follow.

"Who else doesn't remember anything but their name?" Someone finally spoke. Roz jumped, and saw it was the oldest looking boy. There was a hesitant moment, and then everyone replied. A few raised their hands, some muttered yes and me, and a few nodded. Roz nodded.

"Where are we?" a boy asked. He looked young, fourteen? But he already seemed to be growing facial hair.

"None of us know," a boy with a large, crooked nose and black hair replied.

"It looks like a courtyard… a glade…" the blonde boy Roz had bumped into said. His voice was different from the others. An accent. But Roz couldn't place where from.

"We need to figure out where we are. What this is. Who we are." the oldest boy said.

"Who are you then?" Roz asked, "What's your name?"

Everyone turned to look at her. In the space of a few seconds, she saw the same thought come into all of their minds. She was the only girl. She swallowed, and shifted, uncomfortable, crossing her arms.

"Alby." The oldest boy finally said, "My name's Alby." Roz nodded, and Alby pointed at the slits in the walls, "Look at those. They look like doors. We need to find out what's beyond them."

"Not all of us," the blonde boy with the accent said, "We don't know what it is. What would happen? Only a group should go. Paired off in case something happens. The rest stay here. We're obviously here for a reason. Look at the animals. There are pens. Buildings. Crops. It looks like we live here."

Alby nodded. "Yeah. Yeah it does…"

"Newt," The boy provided his name. Alby nodded.

"Volunteers to go through the Doors then?" he asked.

"Wait a minute," the boy with the crooked nose said, "Who put you in charge?"

Roz raised an eyebrow. She supposed he had a point. Alby shrugged.

"No one. But no one else seems to be taking the position. Unless you want to…"

"Gally." The boy said, and suddenly looked uncomfortable. When he didn't say anything else, Alby asked for volunteers again. A few boys raised their hands. Newt did. An Asian boy. A skinny blonde boy. A pallid skinned boy. A few others. Roz did too. She didn't much want to stay put in this… Glade. Alby nodded again.

"Pair off. Keep each other safe."

The group of explorers split off from the other boys, huddling in a small circle. Roz kept her arms firmly crossed.

"Four doors," the Asian boy said, "And there are eight of us. Two people to each door?" Everyone nodded. "Right. I'm Minho."

The pallid boy next to him said, "Leo. I'll come with you."

Two boys called Ben and Alex paired together, as did two boys called Graham and Hans.

"Do you mind being paired with me?" Newt asked Roz. He seemed to notice her edginess. Roz looked him over for a moment in silence, pressing her lips together.

"You're good," she replied, finally uncrossing her arms. "Newt right?"

"Yeah, and you?"

"Roz," she said. She held out a hand, and he quirked a small smile, shaking it.

"Good that," Newt said, and then addressed the rest of the group, "Let's get going then."

They split off into their pairs, each going towards a different door. Newt and Roz passed the main group of boys, and heard Alby assigning different tasks to people, like exploring the trees in the corner, or rounding up in animals into the pens, or checking out the buildings.

Newt and Roz arrived in front of their door, the south door, and they stood at the edge for a minute, looking up to the top and the sky. Then down, to the corridor that stretched in front of them and then seemed to split into a T. They looked at each other, before taking a deep breath, and stepping over the threshold, and past the Walls.

* * *

 **Well, I decided to write a good ol' fashioned, only girl in the glade, newt/oc story. Also a sort of study in the gladers before thomas turned up and fucked everything up XD but seriously, I hope this sparks some interest, so drop me a review and let me know what you thing :D**


	2. Chapter 2: The Maze

Chapter 2: The Maze

They walked in silence for a while, picking turns when a choice arrived. After their fourth turn. Roz stopped walking. Noticing, Newt stopped as well, and turned to look at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked. Roz looked around. Forward to where the path branched off again. Back to where they'd come from a path with three choices.

"This is a maze," she stated. Newt looked around, realising the same thing. Roz took a breath and said, "This is a maze and we haven't been keeping track of what way we've been going."

They stared at each other, and dread filled up in Roz's stomach. Newt looked around again. "Wait…" he said, knitting his eyebrows together, "entered the maze… down the corridor… left… down… left… down… right down left. Here. Pick a turning."

Roz's eyebrows rose, "You remember that?" she asked.

"I… yeah," Newt nodded. Roz let out a breath.

"Left, left, right, left… right?" she suggested, gesturing to the right turning. Newt looked at it, and nodded.

"Good that," he said, and they started walking again.

They walked in silence for a few more turns. Left, left, right, straight down, straight down, straight down, left, right, right, right, right, left. Roz ran her fingers over the ivy covering the walls. Finally, she broke the silence.

"You don't remember anything then," she said. Newt shook his head.

"Except my name," he replied.

"Not even how old you are?"

"Why, do you?" Roz shook her head. "Yeah, me either. We all seem to be teenagers though."

Left, straight down.

"Yeah," Roz replied, "you look about… fifteen?" She looked at him closely, peering at his face and height, "Yeah, fifteen I'd say."

Newt nodded, and then looked at her. "I'd say the same about you."

"Fifteen… good that," she grinned, trying to copy his accent, and botching it completely. Newt snorted, shaking his head as they carried on. Straight down, right, right, right, left. Newt repeated their list of directions every now and then. He seemed better at remembering than Roz.

"Why do you think I'm the only girl here?" she asked, her voice seeming smaller than it had been. Newt looked at her, frowning.

"I don't know," he replied. And then, seeing that she still had an uneasy look on her face, said, "I don't think anything will happen to you."

Roz looked at him, and blew out a breath. "I hope you're right."

They walked in silence some more. Right, left, right, left, straight down, right, lef-

"Wait, do you hear that?" Roz said, holding up a hand. Newt looked at her, confused, before hearing it too.

A series of whirring and clickings, followed by a slick, wet squelching. Newt and Roz glanced at each other, and then looked at the path it was coming from. Newt crept forward, and peered around the corner, froze, and then shot back. Roz darted forward, placing a hand on his arm, seeing his face had gone pale. He opened his mouth, but no sound came out. Slowly, Roz looked around the corner. And froze.

The creatures in front of her were horrific. Squelching, pulsing skin, shining with some kind of slime. Mechanical legs protruded haphazardly, some ending in spikes, others in flat pieces of metal. Three of them rolled around, stopping every now and then and seemingly looking around. Roz felt bile rise up in her throat and she turned away, leaning against the wall and breathing deeply. Newt placed a hand on her arm like he had done for her, looking concerned.

"What the hell are they?" Roz asked, her voice a harsh whisper. Newt shrugged, helpless. "I think we should go back." Newt nodded, and, slowly, trying to block out the whirring, clicking, squelching noises, they retraced their path back to the Glade.

Roz trailed behind Newt, trusting his ability to remember their path better than her, still feeling rather ill. She looked over her shoulder every few minutes, expecting to see one of the creatures rolling behind them. At one point, she saw something else. Something shiny, jumping out of her eyesight. She stopped, and Newt turned, asking her what was wrong, but she couldn't see it anymore, so she just shook her head, and they carried on.

When they arrived back at the Glade, Ben, Alex, Graham and Hans had already gotten back, and were talking to Alby. All around the Glade, boys were doing different jobs. Roz watched a pair chasing a sheep around while it bleated unhappily as they approached Alby, Ben and Alex.

"So, a maze huh?" Alby said, when they joined the group. Newt nodded.

"We saw… these creatures…" Roz said, grimacing, "Like giant… slugs with metal legs."

"Yeah we saw them too," Alex said, "They were just rolling around making horrible noises."

Roz went to reply, but she didn't get a chance, as Minho came sprinting out of the door opposite them. He ran across the entire Glade, skidding to a stop in front of Alby. Sweat shone over his face, and his clothes stuck to his body. He bent over, gasping for breath, and trying to speak at the same time.

"Whoa, whoa, easy there," Newt said, placing his hands on Minho's back, helping him stand up straight. A pain looked came over Minho's face, but he finally managed to speak.

"Leo he… we… he was attacked. We found these things. Creatures that-"

"We all saw them," Roz said, trying to help him along, "Slugs. Metal arms. What happened?"

"He… Leo… one of them saw us and stabbed him with one of their legs. I… I tried to pull him way but… but he collapsed, and they were coming at me and I… I just ran."

Everyone looked at each other. "We have to go and get him." Newt said.

"I think… I don't think he survived," Minho said, squeezing his eyes shut.

"We have to try," Alex said. Newt and Alex set off for the wall Minho had come through, but stopped when a rumbling echoed throughout the Glade. Everyone stopped what they were doing, looking around, murmuring to each other.

"The doors!" Someone yelled. Roz looked at the door opposite them, to see it closing. Her mouth dropped open, and she took a step forward, falling in line with Alex and Newt. The doors shut with a final rumble, and then the Glade fell silent.

"A maze with creatures that can kill you and closing doors, and we've all been dumped in the middle with no memories," Roz muttered, "What the hell is going on?"

* * *

 **Ugh I wanted to put this up yesterday but, y'know, no one could log in -_- anyways here's chapter 2, hope its still interesting. Thank you to the people who reviewed the last chapter, Possibility and Emily, I'm so glad you're enjoying :D I'd really appreciate it if you could let me know what you think :)**


	3. Chapter 3: Night Into Day

Chapter 3: Night Into Day

Alby called the Glade back into order, and told those who had been out in the Maze to go get some food. Apparently some boy called Siggy had found a kitchen of sorts, and discovered he had some innate cooking skills, and so had named himself head chef of the glade.

The seven of them sat around a small, rickety wooden table in the kitchen, with a bowl of soup and slices of bread in front of them, exchanging information on what they'd found. Ben and Alex had apparently found a sign that said _World In Catastrophe Killzone Experiment Department_. So had Hans and Graham.

"Well that settles it, doesn't it," Roz said, through a mouthful of bread, "We were put here by people. They built this maze and filled it with those creatures and put those signs up on the walls."

"But why would… why would these… _Creators_ do something like that?" Minho asked. Roz snorted.

"You're talking like their some kind of gods," she said. Minho huffed, running a hand through his hair.

"Well they might as well be; they put us here! And I bet they have something to do with our lost memories as well." He said. Roz frowned, looking down at her soup.

"I think I saw something else in the Maze," she said.

"What?" Newt asked, surprised. Roz shook her head, chewing on her lip.

"I'm not sure but… out the corner of my eye, when we were coming back. It looked like a robot. Like an oversized insect? About the size of my forearm?" She looked back up at the boys, frowning.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Newt asked. Roz shrugged.

"I only saw it for a second. I wasn't even sure I _did_ see it, and I just wanted to get back," she said.

When they finished dinner, the sun had begun to set. Granted, they still couldn't _see_ the sun, but it had started to get darker. While they were out in the Maze, a few other boys had found a few rooms set up like bedrooms, but there weren't enough beds for everyone. Most of the boys chose to set up camp on the grass, huddled in small groups, whispering to each other.

Roz wandered around for a while, scuffing her feet on the ground with her hands in the pockets, before sitting down with her back against a tree, facing the rest of the Glade. She saw boys shuffling around, and their gentle whispers flowed over to her. She looked up at the sky, furrowing her brow as she thought that there should be stars.

When had she seen stars before?

She heard something rustle besides her and she glanced over to see Newt falling to the ground next to her.

"Rough day," he muttered, picking at his nails. Roz shrugged.

"'S not like I've got anything to compare it too," she said. Newt nodded.

"Yup, can't remember a single bloody thing," he stated, sighing. She glanced at him.

"Where do you reckon you're from?" she asked. Newt looked at her, confused. "You talk different. A few other people here talk different too, with accents. But I can't remember where they're from. There's one kid I heard talking who uses way too many 'Z's."

Newt sighed. "I dunno. I can't remember. Somewhere… not here, I guess."

Roz snorted. A few other boys came over to join them. Siggy, the cook boy, and a boy called Winston. Minho. Alby.

Beyond the walls, a scraping noise sounded. "What's that?" Siggy asked, looking at the Maze.

"I don't really want to think about it," Roz muttered, grimly, "Probably some other horrible kind of animal."

They fell into a soft silence, laying down. Roz found herself facing Newt, his eyes shining slightly in the darkness as she blinked at him. They looked at each other for a while, the darkness throwing shadows over them, until they fell asleep.

* * *

They woke up to the sun rising, (Or, well, the sky lightening), and the walls opening. A lot of boys ran to the doors, peering out into the Maze. A lot of them obviously hadn't expected the doors to reopen. Hell, even Roz had her doubts. As the group sleeping by the trees stood up, a commotion by the North Wall reach them, glancing at each other, they jogged over, Alby and Newt pushed to the front. They both stopped dead, and Minho and Roz knocked into their backs.

"Holy…" Roz breathed, leaning over Newt's shoulder. Lying in the doorway was a mangled body, covered in blood and gashes. Roz heard a retching sound behind her, and then a few people running away. No one else around them were moving, so Roz pushed past Newt softly, and knelt down, turning the face towards her. In a vain hope, she also checked his pulse. Nothing.

"It's Leo," she said, quietly, looking up.

"Right, everybody! Back to whatever you were doing before!" Newt shouted. Slowly, the Gladers moved away, leaving only Newt, Alby, Minho and Roz.

"We need to bury him somewhere," Minho said. Roz nodded.

"Who's gonna handle a dead body?" Alby asked, not expecting anyone to answer.

"I will," Roz said, standing up. Newt raised an eyebrow, and she shrugged. "He needs to be buried and I can do that. Maybe find someone else who can help me… pick him up and carry him somewhere. Find something to cover him with."

"We found some large bags in the Homestead," Alby said, referring to the largest building, "large bags. Someone made a joke about them being body bags but… maybe that was true."

Roz looked back down at Leo, and crossed her arms. Alby went off to find someone who could help her and get the bags, and Minho left, frowning at the ground. Newt looked down Leo, and then back at Roz.

"He was killed by those creatures," Newt stated. Roz nodded.

"Must have been. Minho saw him get attacked," she said. Newt sighed and ran a hand over his face.

"Take it you're not planning on going back into the Maze then?" he asked. Roz shook her head.

"I'd rather not run into one of those things," she said.

"But you're fine with burying a dead body?" Newt asked. Roz shrugged.

"It doesn't seem the same," she said, "Those creatures aren't natural. They're… they've obviously been made by these Creators. And they obviously want to hurt us. Leo was hurt by them. And… I dunno…" she shook her head, as Alby reapproached with another boy trailing behind him, carrying a large, black bag and a couple of shovels.

"This is Max," he said, "He'll help you carry and bury Leo." Max was a tall, broad boy who seemed about fourteen, with messy ginger hair and freckles covering his face, neck and arms. Roz greeted him.

"I'll join Minho in the Maze," Newt said, "we're still in pairs for now."

Alby nodded. Roz gave Newt a smile. "Come back before the walls close," she said.

"We will," Newt said, before jogging away. Alby nodded at her and Max, and left as well.

"We can bury him in the back of the woods," he said, opening the bag and grouching at Leo's head, "away from all us living here."

"Good that," Roz muttered, helping Max slide Leo into the bag. They each gripped a shovel under their arms, and then hauled the body up. Roz grunted and stumbled a bit under the weight, before they made their way across the Glade. A few Gladers stopped what they were doing and watched them as they passed. Some frowned, some had disgusted looks on their faces, and one small boy ran off, trying to avoid retching. They passed the trees and made their way to a small clearing. Slowly, grunting with effort, they laid Leo on the ground, and they paused for a moment. Max wiped his forehead, and then they set about burying a hole.

"We should have some sort of funeral," Max said, as they dug. Roz looked up at him, and nodded.

"I suppose we should, yeah," she replied.

"Someone's actually making a kind of headstone," Max said, "Only out of wood but… y'know." Roz swallowed, and nodded again.

It took them a few hours to dig a hole deep and wide enough. When they did, they pulled Leo out the bag, and lowered him into the hole. They tried to do it slowly, but Max's hand slipped, and he fell from their grip, landing in the hole with a dull _thud_. Roz grimaced, and Max said a small apology. After a few minutes to catch their breath, they set about filling in the grave.

By the time they were finished, the sky was starting to get darker. They left their shovels in ground, gave the soft, fresh earth one last glance, and walked back through the woods. They stepped into the Glade just as Minho and Newt came through the doors. Both pairs approached Alby, with Roz and Max arriving first.

"We buried Leo," Roz said, "We thought we could have some kind of funeral or something later, after dinner." Alby nodded as Newt and Minho arrived.

"Find anything?" Alby asked.

"It's changed," Newt said.

"What?"

"The Maze," Minho said, "I reckon it's what we heard last night. The walls changed."

"Are you serious?" Roz asked. Newt nodded. Alby huffed, and waved them off.

"Go get something to eat," he told them.

They arrived at the kitchen to see a large group of boys still eating.

"Hey, Frypan!" Max yelled, grinning, "Got any food for us?!"

Siggy groaned, "Not for you, no!" he said, brandishing a frypan at him. Roz raised an eyebrow as she approached.

"What about for me?" she asked. Siggy nodded.

"For you? Sure, so long as you don't call me Frypan like these shanks are," he gestured to the boys eating.

Roz bit her lip and Newt sniggered. Siggy plated them up some food, including Max, and shooed them off. "Thanks… Frypan," Roz said. Frypan groaned as Minho and Newt laughed.

"I threaten someone with a frypan _one time_!" he muttered.

* * *

After dinner, the Gladers gathered in the trees, around Leo's grave. A young boy named Daniel, about twelve, stepped forward and stuck a makeshift gravestone in the ground. It was just a shoddy wooden cross, with _LEO_ carved messily into it. But it was something. For a moment, everyone stood there awkwardly, not really sure what to do. They all knew what a funeral _was_ , but none of them could remember ever _being_ at one.

Hesitantly, Roz stepped forward, coughing slightly. "Well, I dug this grave so… uh, with Max but…" everyone looked at her, and she shuffled, glancing behind her. Newt shot her a look to tell her to continue. She swallowed, and then sighed. "Look. None of us know each other. None of us even know ourselves. We don't know where we are or why we're here. But we _are_ here, and apparently _here_ can kill us. So what we do know is that we need to survive. Leo didn't survive. But now we know that the creatures can kill us. As long as we remember him, as long as we survive, his death isn't in vain."

She stepped back and let out a breath. Newt brought up a hand and squeezed her arm, nodding to her.

After a few more moments of silence, the Gladers dispersed, going back to the Glade. Newt, Minho, Roz and Daniel were the only ones left, and soon, the started to leave too.

"Wait, what's that?" Minho asked, pointing to a tree. Roz took a closer look, and saw it was the same metallic insect she had seen on the Maze. Its legs were spindly as it walked carefully along a branch, looking at them with a red light. Along the back was the word _WICKED_.

"Wicked?" Roz asked, "Is that a warning or something?"

"It looks like a beetle," Daniel said, squinting up at it.

"Yeah, with bloody blades for legs," Newt said. Minho snorted.

"We should call 'em beetle-blades," he said. Roz raised an eyebrow at him, and he shrugged.

"Its eye looks like a kind of camera," Daniel said. Newt looked at it closely.

"It could be them. The Creators. Watching us." He said. Suddenly, it pounced, and they all jumped and screamed. But it flew past them, and scuttled into the trees.

Roz shivered, watching it go. "Well, shi-" and caught sight on Daniel, "iiiiiaaaaaauuuuuck?" she stumbled out.

"Shiauck?" Minho asked, "That some kinda weird curse word where you're from?"

"I don't know I suddenly felt like I shouldn't swear in front of kids," she snapped back. Daniel snorted.

"Shiauck. Shiuck. Shuck. I am so using that forever more," he said.

"Ha, same," Minho replied. Roz rolled her eyes.

"Oh, sure, make fun of me," she mumbled, as they continued back to the glade.

"Yup!" Minho called. She stuck her tongue out at him.

"Shucking idiot," she said, grinning.

* * *

 **And here's chapter 3 :D I hope you're enjoying this fic and that you're liking Roz. I hope she's just as much an enjoyment to read as she is for me to write. I'd really love it if you could drop me a review and let me know what you think :)**


	4. Chapter 4: Community

Chapter 4: Community

Each day, the doors opened, and Newt, Minho, Ben, Alex, Graham and Hans jogged out into the Maze to explore. Two other boys had joined them, named Frank and Hugo.

"Are you sure you don't want to come back out?" Newt asked one evening, as they sat around eating dinner. Roz snorted into her chicken.

"Nah, I'm fine. Don't really wanna run into none of those… what have you started calling them?"

"Grievers?" Newt supplied.

"Yeah, Grievers. And 'sides," she took another bite, swallowing, "I heard you started running all the time. I ain't no good at shuck running," she said. Newt quirked a smile. "Nah, I'll stick with burying dead bodies." That made Newt's smile drop.

"Hopefully we won't have to bury any more people," he said. Roz sighed.

"Yeah, I feel that."

While the Runners, as they had been dubbed, were out running the Maze, Roz set about helping the rest of the Gladers set up their living situation. She spent a lot of time trying to herd animals into the pens. Some of them escaped into the maze, and when that happened, no one was too fond in trying to follow them. At one point, when she'd just managed to shove a cow through the fence, and Winston and slammed the gate shut behind it, a commotion started up by the homestead.

Roz looked up, wiping her forehead with the bottom of her shirt and looking towards where a crowd of boys was growing. Roz glanced at Winston, before trotting off towards the crowd. Winston jumped over the fence and followed her. When they reached throng, she pushed through, and saw two boys fighting. Or, well, scrapping was probably a better word. Gally and Marvin were throwing flailing fists at each other, rolling around on the ground, yelling at each other. Roz watched them for a second, listening to the boys cheering around her, before huffing and surging forward.

"Shucking hell!" she yelped, grabbing onto Gally's collar and pulling him up roughly. He tried to throw a blind punch at her, but she ducked and he mixed, "Shuck- Max shucking help me!" she yelled. Max, who had previously been cheering, flinched, and grabbed Marvin. "Break it up, seriously! We've got work to do!" Roz yelled, hauling Gally through the crowd. "Where's that shucking jail Alby mentioned the other day."

"You're throwing them in jail?" Max asked, but nodded his head towards it anyway.

"What? You can't put us in the slammer!" Marvin yelled, struggling. Gally complained, but Roz kept hauling him along.

"Yes we can, because fighting won't do us no good, and it's against the rules we all set up the other night!" Roz said. They reached the slammer, and Roz managed to open the door to one cell with her foot. She pushed Gally in and closed the door, locking it as he slammed himself against the door. Max did the same with Marvin.

"Bit harsh, don't you think?" Max said.

"Nope," Roz replied, "We all agreed fighting was against the rules. They're fighting."

Max shrugged, and then called to the inmates, "you shanks are in here for the rest of the day!"

"What the shuck's a shank?" Roz asked. Max shrugged again.

"Frypan calls us it. Loads of us seem to have picked it up," he said, before walking away. Roz looked around to see Alby walking towards her. She explained what happened, and Alby told her he'd figure out what had caused the fight.

"Good that," Roz said, as she started to walk away.

"Hey," Alby stopped her, and she turned to look, "I'm putting you in charge of security and stuff from now on. Break up any fights, that sort of stuff. Round up a group and sort it out."

"Does that include bagging up dead bodies?" Roz asked, raising an eyebrow. Alby rolled his eyes.

"I guess so."

* * *

Within a few days, Roz had a group of boys under her command; Max, Daniel, Edward and, surprisingly, Marvin. They dubbed themselves Baggers, thinking it would be sadistically funny to remind people that they would lug around corpses when the need arose. Roz rolled her eyes, slightly worried about the people she had working with her.

Most of the time, they did other jobs; gardening, cleaning, slicing the animals, but when any kind of security or muscle mass was needed, they were the ones called. Fights broke out quite often over the next few days; the reality of being trapped in the centre of a Maze seemed to be settling over the boys, and they weren't reacting too kindly. Roz was frequently called away from where she would help Winston with the animals by shouts of a gathering fight, and her and her Baggers would roll their eyes and run to break it up, haul the fighters over to the slammer, and sometimes help Alby figure out what had caused the fight.

"Heard you're our new chief of police," Newt said, falling into the seat next to her. His face was shining lightly with sweat and he was breathing heavily. Roz watched, amused, as he downed an entire glass of water.

"Yeah, seems that way. How's things out in the Maze?" Newt shook his head, shooting a look over to Minho, who was on the other side of the room chatting with Frypan.

"We've started drawing up maps of what we remember at the end of each day," he said, "It changes. Every day. We don't know why."

"To keep us from the exit?" Roz suggested. Newt shrugged, and frowned down at his dinner.

"We're trying to cover as much of the Maze as we can each day. We've stopped travelling in pairs, split the Maze into eight, we can cover more of it that way." Roz frowned.

"Is that safe?" she asked. Newt laughed, humourlessly.

"I'm not sure anything in this bloody Maze is safe," he muttered. Roz sighed, and dipped her head to look into his face. His eyes flicked to her, his brow creasing.

"We're gonna get out of here," she said. He looked at her, and attempted to smile. He failed. But he attempted. Roz lifted her head, and he followed her, before going back to eating his dinner.

* * *

 **Bit of a short chapter, sorry bout that, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway :) I'd love it if you left a review. Oh! And I was wondering if anyone has figured out who Roz is named after?**


	5. Interlude: RE: The First Week, Group A

Interlude: RE: The First Week, Group A

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: The First Week, Group A

Group A seems to settling into the Maze Trials as well as expected, perhaps even better. There has only been one death so far, as opposed to the three many of us predicted. This gives me great hope for the future of the Trials; perhaps they will proceed to exceed expectations.

The Variable of subject A23 is not extracting as much of a reaction as we had expected. She has made herself seem as undifferent as possible, as opposed to subject B23, who is not having as much success in his attempt to be accepted by his group. It is not necessarily a bad thing that this has happened, but this is something I would like to speak about tomorrow, as well as any other opinions you may have on the first week of the Maze Trials.

* * *

 **Quick interlude. There's going to be a few of these scattered throughout the story, hopefully giving you an insight into why things happen; such as why Roz is in the Glade (and the fact that, yes, she has a male counterpart in Group B). Next chapter will be up in a couple hours :D It'd be great if you could drop a review :)**


	6. Chapter 5: Supplies

Chapter 5: Supplies

One morning, the Gladers were woken by a scraping. It wasn't like the rumbling of the walls opening every morning, this was more metallic. Roz sat up, looking around confused, running her fingers through her hair.

"Wassat?" Newt mumbled from next to her, rolling onto his back. Roz shrugged as Minho stood up, looking around.

"Everyone's at that weird grate thing in the middle of the Glade," he nodded.

"Ugh, there'd better not be another fight like there always is whenever there's a crowd," Roz muttered.

"Lazing off on your job?" Max said, smirking at her.

"Shuck off," she replied. Newt stood up and held out a hand, hauling Roz up. She brushed off her legs and they made their way over to the crowd. Alby was already at the centre, calling for everyone to cool off.

"Everyone calm the shuck down!" he yelled, "if something dangerous is happening we need to be prepared!" the boys around him kept babbling, and he started pointing out individuals, "You! Shut the hell up. You! Stop talking. You! Slim your shucking complaints."

"How did shuck even catch on," Roz muttered, pushing her way to the front and making a face. Newt snorted as she told a kid to step back.

"What the bloody hell is going on?" Newt asked, when they got to Alby.

"Sounds like something's coming up," he replied, pointing to the grate.

"Well why are we all standing right near it?" Roz asked, "It could be something dangerous."

Newt huffed and turned around, facing the crowd, "Everyone take a few bloody steps back! We don't want anyone getting hurt!"

Hesitantly, the boys complied, still talking amongst themselves. Roz and Max helped herd the back, keeping them in line, while Minho, Newt and Alby stood a little forward, looking at the grate.

Finally, something just underneath it seemed to grind to a halt.

The Glade fell into silence.

Everyone looked around at each other, and then back to the grate. For a full two minutes, no one moved or spoke. Then someone from the back called, "Can we open the grate up?"

Newt and Alby glanced at each other, before Newt stepped forward. He gripped onto the grate and, with a slight grunt of effort, pulled it up. He looked down for a moment, and then back to the Gladers.

"…It looks like a bunch of supplies." He said.

The Gladers burst into babbling again. Roz rolled her eyes. "Hey! Hey! Slim ya talkin'!" she yelled. The Gladers quietened down, and she gestured to Max to hold the line as she approached the box. Minho and Alby had stepped forward as well. When she looked down, she saw that they did, indeed, seem to be supplies. A stack of cans were in the corner, a pile of clothing, a box of digital watches, some flasks, bandages, and other things.

"From the Creators?" Minho suggested, quietly.

"Must be," Newt replied.

"So they _don't_ want us to die, then," Roz muttered under her breath. Alby looked at them each and then turned back to the Gladers.

"I want a group of you to sort these out. Take them to where they need to be. Food to the kitchens, clothes in the homestead, medical supplies to the med-jack hut." Then he reached down and picked up the watches. He gave one to Newt, one to Roz, and one for himself, before handing the rest to Minho. "Give these to your Runners," he said, "hopefully it'll help with getting back before the Walls close."

"Good that. We'd better get going, actually," Minho nodded, then he called, "Runners! With me!" Roz sent them a nod as they ran off, and strapped on her watch.

"Baggers!" she called, "we're helping get this crap to where it needs to be." Her Baggers moved through the crowd towards her as Alby sent the rest of the Gladers back to their normal jobs. Roz directed her boys to carry things and told them where to take them, before snatching up an armful of cans and trotting over to the kitchen.

"Got a stash for ya, Frypan," she announced, as she entered. Frypan looked up from where he was chopping vegetables.

"I'm never gonna lose that nickname am I?" he asked.

"Nope!" Roz replied, a grin on her face, "Where d'ya want these?"

"Stick 'em in that cupboard," Frypan gestured with his knife. Roz nodded and did as told, before bidding him goodbye and heading back to the Box. Daniel was just clambering out, inspecting a box of something closely.

"Hey, Roz where should I put these?" he asked, looking up.

"What is it?"

"I don't know."

Furrowing her brow, Roz peered into the box. A few syringes of some kind of blue liquid lay inside.

"What the hell?" she murmured to herself, picking up one of the syringes and inspecting it, before putting it back. "They look like some kind of injection… give 'em to the Med-jacks, but then go and tell Alby about them. And make sure the Med-jacks store them safely."

Daniel nodded and hurried off, and Roz jumped back down in the Box to lug out another armful of cans.

Once all the supplies had been shipped off to where they were best suited, Roz went and found Alby, telling him everything was done.

"Heard there were a few things where you didn't know what they were," he said. Roz nodded.

"Just one really, did Daniel tell you about the syringes?"

"Yeah, I had a look at 'em. No idea what they are, but we need to figure it out," he said.

"I know," Roz said, "but we can't exactly go around stabbing people with needles to see what the pretty blue liquid does."

Alby sighed, "I'll figure it out," he said, "when we get outta this shuck place, the slintheads that put us here are gonna have a lot to answer for."

* * *

 **And here's the chapter :D Not really much to say here, but I'd love it if you left a review about what you think :)**


	7. Chapter 6: Grim Jobs

Chapter 6: Grim Jobs

The Runners trickled back into the Glade slowly as the evening went on, reporting in at the Map Room before going to get dinner. Newt was the first to arrive, but still hadn't left the Map Room, even though all the other Runners but one other had returned, reported, and left. Graham was still out in the Maze. Roz glanced at her watch worriedly. The Walls would be closing in half an hour. Sighing, she made her way over to the Map Room, and knocked on the door. When she didn't get an answer, she opened it, and leaned against the door frame, crossing her arms and looking around. Paper was scattered over the table in the middle of the room, and a few sheets on the floor. Pens and pencils were strewn haphazardly. And in the middle of the room, Newt stood over the table, looking intently at the sheets of paper.

"Newt," Roz said softly. Newt jumped, looking at her with wild eyes. His expression softened and became tired when he realised it was her. He ran a hand through his hair and looked back down, reshuffling the papers. Roz sighed and pushed herself further into the room. "Newt, have you had dinner yet?"

"Uh… no I don't think so," he replied airily, still looking at the pages.

"You need to eat."

"Yeah I just…" Newt looked up again, "I'm trying to find some sort of pattern in the Maze's changes every night. But… I don't know…"

Roz placed a hand softly on his shoulder, "You need a break. You were out there all day and you haven't left this shack since you got back. C'mon, I haven't had dinner yet either."

"What, why?" Newt asked, still reluctant to leave. Roz shrugged.

"I was waiting for you, but then you didn't come out of here so I came to get you." Newt blinked at her for a second, before nodding and rearranging the pages once more. When he was satisfied, he let Roz lead him out of the Map Room, close the door, and to the kitchen, where she managed to wrangle a bit of extra bacon and bread from Frypan for them both. They ate in a soft silence, Roz silently prompting him to eat more every now and then when he faltered. They were just finishing up when a commotion started up outside.

Roz groaned and let her head fall onto the table. Newt chuckled softly, and she glared at him. "Hey, you think it's funny but every time noise like that sounds I usually have to drag a load of shanks over to the slammer. Some kid kneed me in the gut the other day I've still got the bruises."

Newt rolled his eyes as Roz hauled herself away from the table, and followed her as she trotted outside. The Gladers were milling about by the homestead. In the centre of them, Alby and the Runners were murmuring to themselves. She called for them all to settle down, searching about for any hint of violence. But all she saw was fear and confusion.

"What's going on?" she asked.

"The doors closed," Minho said, looking worried, "Graham hasn't come back."

Roz cursed and Newt grimaced. "What happens if someone doesn't get back when the doors close?"

Minho shrugged helplessly, "I mean… Leo's body was at the doors when they opened…"

Roz shuffled and looked at Newt, frowning. "Let's hope that doesn't happen."

* * *

It didn't happen. When the doors opened, nothing was behind them. Roz saw the Runners off into the Maze, before setting off the help Winston with the animals.

Just before lunch, Newt came running out of the Maze. Roz watched him, confused, as he passed by Alby, muttered something to him, and then came running straight for her.

"Newt what's wrong?" she asked.

"I found Graham," he said, gasping. Roz started, and then knitted her eyebrows together. Newt frowned, "we need the Baggers."

Roz sighed, running her hands over her face. "I'll grab Max. We'll meet you at the Door you came in through."

Newt nodded and jogged away. Roz left a quick word with Winston, before heading off to grab a body bag, and pull Max away from the kitchen. She also told Daniel, Edward and Jack to start digging a grave. When they arrived at the Door, where Newt was standing, twitching from foot to foot, Roz faltered. Newt frowned.

"I know you don't want to go back in there," he said, "but if we want to get Graham's body out…"

"Yeah, yeah I know, I was just…" she coughed, "let's go."

Newt started jogging down the corridor, and Roz and Max followed. A stitch started forming in Roz's side rather quickly, but she kept quiet. Max seemed to fair better, but she could hear his laboured breathing. After a while, Newt slowed to a walk.

"How do you do this every day," Roz muttered, wiping her forehead.

"You get used to it," Newt replied, sombrely, "He's here."

They rounded a corner, and Max gasped. Roz sighed, approaching the mangled body. Graham's face was bloody and bruised, and his limbs were bent at an awkward angle. "Looks like the Grievers got him same way as Leo," Max said. Roz nodded, and then instructed him to pull the bag over the body.

"You're gonna lead us back right?" Roz said as she and Max hauled the body up between them, "We'd get lost otherwise."

Newt hesitated, "I…" he glanced down the corridor, the opposite way to which they'd come.

"Newt."

"…Yeah, of course I will."

Roz thanked him with a nod, and they made their way back through the Maze. The shadows prickled at Roz's neck. When she saw the light from the doors, she let out a sigh of relief. Newt nodded, and turned to ran back down the corridor.

"Newt," Roz warned, "there's no way you'll get far before the Walls close."

Newt stopped and turned, pressing his lips into a line. "I know, but I was gonna-"

"I don't want you ending up like Graham."

Newt sighed, but nodded, following them into the Glade. Newt trotted off to the Map Room and Roz and Max headed off to the trees to bury Graham next to Leo.

They held another funeral after dinner, with Daniel placing another handmade cross as his headstone. This time Minho spoke, about the dangers of the Maze and not being caught outside when the Walls close. Roz spotted another Beetle-Blade as the other Gladers started dispersing. She sent it a glare, before turning and leaving the graveyard.

* * *

 **Just a bit of a filler I suppose. I feel like I'm struggling with creating a balance between showing ordinary Glader life and also making enough things happen that it keeps things interesting/events like it aren't surprising to the Gladers by the time Thomas comes along. I'd really appreciate it if you guys could let me know how I'm doing :) Also thank you to the anon who reviewed the last chapter. And don't worry, you're definitely reading it correctly; there is indeed a relationship with Newt building up :D But yeah, review guys, I'd love it :)**


	8. Chapter 7: The Escape

Chapter 7: Escape

A few days later, Roz spotted one of her Baggers, Edward, staring at the hole where the Box came up. He'd opened up that doors and was just staring down. Edward was a boy of sixteen, with tanned skin and thick hair. He was quiet, but he was good at breaking up fights. Roz, with a basket of vegetables on her hip, wandered over to him.

"What's up, Ed?" she said. He looked up, a curious look in his eye.

"The Box with the supplies came up through there," he said, crossing his arms, "that means it leads somewhere. Somewhere we could get from."

"You think it's an escape?" Roz asked. Edward shrugged.

"Could be."

Roz bit her lip, thought for a moment, and then said, "Go pitch your idea to Alby, see what he says." Edward nodded, and went off. Roz stared down the hole for a while longer, tilting her head to the side. It just went on and on and on. Down, deeper, darker.

She snapped out of her thoughts, checking her watch. The Runners should be back soon. She sighed, repositioned her basket on her hip, and left the Hole.

As Roz was having dinner with Newt and Minho, Alby came over to them. "I heard the idea from your Bagger," he said. "I want to hear other opinions. I'm calling a Gathering of Keepers. Half an hour in that shack opposite the Map Room. You three need to be there."

"Gathering of Keepers?" Roz asked, with a raised eyebrow. Alby shrugged.

"Sounds official," he replied. Newt looked up with a confused expression.

"I'm not a Keeper though," he said, "Minho's Keeper of the Runners."

"Yeah, but you're my second in command," Alby said. Newt frowned, but nodded.

"Half an hour," Alby reminded them.

So, half an hour later, Roz and the rest of the Keepers sat in the 'Gathering Hall' in a circle. Roz lounged in her chair, legs crossed, between Newt and Winston. Alby explained what Edward had thought of earlier, and then put forward a plan to create a rope out of vines and lower someone down. Then he asked for everyone else's opinion. There was a moment of silence, before Roz shrugged, leaning forward, elbows on knees.

"I mean I'm the one who told Edward to tell Alby," she said, "and if we can get out of here… I'll take anything."

"I dunno I have a bad feeling about this," Newt shook his head, "We were put here and we're surrounded by a Maze full of mutant creatures who kill us if don't get back when the Doors close. It can't be that simple."

"We have to try, though, don't we?" Frypan said, "We have to try anything."

"I ain't going down that shuck hole," Gally said, crossing his arms.

"No one said you had to go," Zart said.

"We don't even know how far down it goes."

"We'll just make a really long rope."

"Who's gonna go down though?"

The babble of voices rose until Alby called for a stop, standing up. "First, we vote," he said, "Democracy and all the klunk. Who doesn't think going down the Hole is a good idea?" Newt raised his hand, as did Gally and two other boys. "And who does?" Roz and the rest of the Keepers rose their hands, outnumbering those who didn't want to try it. "That settles it then. We try tomorrow after the Doors close."

The Gathering broke up and the Keepers trotted out of the Hall and away. Newt and Roz headed over to their usual sleeping spot. Roz watched the sky darkening above them, trying to imagine stars. Newt looked down at the ground as they walked, hands in his pockets, scuffing his feet on the ground.

"I really don't have a good feeling about this," he muttered. Roz glanced at him, frowning.

"Honestly? Neither do I," she sighed, as they reached the beginning of the trees and fell onto the ground. Roz crossed her legs and hunched forward as Newt leaned back against a tree. "But we have to try, right? Or else we'll never know."

"Yeah I know," Newt nodded, picking at the grass, "but… what if someone dies? We've already got two bloody dead shanks, we don't want another. Who's gonna volunteer for it when their life could be on the line?"

Roz paused, pressed her lips together before saying, "I will."

Newt's head snapped towards her, "What? Are you bloody insane?"

"I have a feeling it's going to take someone insane to get us out of here," Roz said, dryly. Newt shook his head.

"You're shuck crazy, like I said, what if you die?!"

"Then I die, Newt!" Roz exclaimed, "And the rest of the Gladers will know that you can't escape through that hole. But we won't know until we try, and either succeed or fail."

Newt frowned, looking down at the ground, "I don't want you dying."

Roz blinked, surprised that tears were prickling at the corners of her eyes. "I don't much want to die either. But maybe I won't."

Newt watched her carefully, a crease between his brow. He opened his mouth to say something, but Minho collapsed down next to Roz, complaining about how Frypan hadn't let him sneak some bread from the kitchen, and Roz and Newt were pulled away from their earlier conversation.

The next day, before the Runners set off, Alby called the Gladers together and told them about the plan. He set Gally and his Builders up with the task of making the rope, and then asked for a volunteer to go down the hole. Roz, ignoring Newt's intense frown, was raising her hand, when a voice called down, "I will!"

Roz snapped her head to the side, seeing Edward with his hand in the air. Roz stepped forward, but Newt gripped harshly onto her arm. She glared at him, trying to pull her arm away, but he tightened his grip even further, a dark look coming over his face. Alby nodded and sent the Gladers off. It wasn't until Minho called Newt away that finally let go of Roz's hand, and left without looking at her. Roz winced, her arm beginning to ache, and shot a glare at Newt's back, before shooting off the Edward.

"What're you _doing_?!" She shrieked at him. Edward looked confused, so she said, "Volunteering to go down that shuck hole!"

Edward blinked, still confused. "Well, it was my idea," he said, slowly. "So it only makes sense I be the one to go down there."

"I was going to go down!" Roz said. Edward looked alarmed.

"You? Why would _you_ want to go down?!"

"I don't want to go down!" Roz snapped, "But it's better me than you!"

"How so? I _want_ to go down. I _want_ to test my theory."

"And if something happens to you?"  
"Then it's better it happens to me than you." Roz shook her head, and went to reply, but Edward cut her off. "I want to go down. I'm going down. I know you're my Keeper but that's final. I'm sorry Roz." He walked away, not letting her get in another word.

The day passed slowly. Roz zoned out constantly, standing in the gardens leaning on a shovel, or halfway pulling a carrot out of the ground. Around her, Builders ran to and throw making up the rope, until it was nearly a hundred feet long. She didn't even notice the Runners coming back, until something touched her shoulder. She jumped, and turned to see Newt giving her a tentative smile, before he pulled her carefully away to dinner.

After dinner, the Gladers gathered around the Box, a couple of Builders holding the rope, coiled up. It was relatively quiet as they secured it around Edward, and then positioned themselves so they could lower him down. Newt and Roz opened up the doors to the Box, and Edward shot everyone a hopeful grin.

"Let's hope this works!" he said. No one replied. Then he swallowed, and stepped back, before letting himself be lowered into the hole. He caught Roz's eye briefly, and she nodded at him, before he looked down.

About ten feet of the rope had disappeared down the hole.

Then they heard a sharp swish, and half a scream.

" _EDWARD_?!" Roz screamed, lurching forward. Newt shot towards her and caught a hold of her shoulders, stopping her from falling into the Hole. "Pull him up, _PULL HIM UP_!"

The Builders hastily tugged on the rope, and Edward, limp and pale, was dragged out of the hole. It took a few seconds for Roz's mind to realise that the bottom half of his body was missing, blood pooling out of him as he lay on the ground. Roz choked, and Newt held onto her shoulders firmly. Several Gladers ran off to throw up.

"Well, that didn't work," Gally muttered.

" _NO SHUCK, SLINTHEAD_!" Roz yelled at him.

"Hey, hey, Roz," Newt said, pulling her away, and moving to face her. He slid his hands down to her elbows, pulling her into him, "we knew this might happen."

"I should've made him let me go," Roz muttered.

"And then you'd be dead," Newt said, softly.

"Better me than him," Roz said. Newt shook his head.

"No. neither of you would have been better," he said. Roz stared at him a moment, before walking away.

Max and a couple of other Baggers untied the rope from Edward's torso and bagged him, and buried him. They held another funeral.

"So we can't get out through that shuck hole," Roz said to the Gladers, eyes staring off into space, "but we had to try. Or else we would have never known. Edward's death had meaning. Let's make sure that meaning stays."

She didn't fall asleep easily that night. She stared up at the starless sky, trying to rid the image of Edwards bleeding half body from her mind. A couple of feet away from her, Newt breathed deeply. Roz lied on her side, watching the shadow of his chest rise and fall in the dark, forcing herself to match her breathing to his. At one point in the night, he woke up briefly, and mumbled to her, asking if she was alright. She gave a noncommittal hum, and Newt, already falling back asleep, reached a hand out and patted her arm sluggishly. He fell asleep before he finished, and his hand fell limply next to her. Roz sighed, and nudged his hand with hers, allowing her hand to stay there, touching gently, matching his breathing, as she eventually drifted off into sleep.

* * *

 **Well I suppose the angst had to start up at some point. And boy is there gonna be a lot of angst from here on out, after all living in the Glade is no picnic. Don't worry though, they'll be a lot of fluff in the future to balance it out. Thank you to fiercetiger333 who reviewed the last chapter ^_^ I'd really appreciate it if you guys could review this one and let me know what you think :) x**


	9. Chapter 8: Requests

Chapter 8: Requests

The Glade was a bit edgy for a few days after Edward's death. The Runners pushed themselves even harder, searching deeper into the Maze, studying their Maps more closely. The other Gladers got into more fights. One day there was three in a row, and the Slammer was full of grumbling boys. Roz and the other Baggers were sombre a lot of the time, mourning the loss of one of their own. One night at dinner, Frypan confessed to Newt that'd he'd been trying to make up batches of biscuits, but he didn't seem to have the right sort of flour, so they weren't going to well. Newt managed to convince Frypan to give him a tray, and he ventured off to find Roz as the sky started to darken.

He found her sitting in their usual sleeping spot, curled up against a tree. He sat down and said her name softly, and he snapped out of her thoughts.

"Oh, Newt hey, what's up?" she said.

"I have something which might cheer you up," he gestured to the tray.

"Newt, I don't need cheer- are those biscuits?" Newt grinned, as she reached for one, a smile growing brightly on her face.

"Frypan said they might not be the best, he doesn't have the right ingredients, but…" he trailed off as she took a bit. She raised an eyebrow and swallowed, then giggled. "Yeah they're a bit bitter and doughy, but I can't remember the last time I had biscuits… literally."

Newt gave a small smile, and took a biscuit for himself. Roz was right, it stuck to his teeth and made his tongue curl slightly, but they were wonderful. They sat there for about an hour without anyone bothering them, chatting. Newt updated her on the Maze, how it changed and how he and the Runners thought they might find a pattern soon. Roz told him stories of all the fights she'd broken up recently, and showed him the bruises on her shoulder, arm and stomach from where she'd been hit.

Eventually, when there were only three biscuits left, Minho kicked over to them, running a hand over his face. "I've been looking at those maps so long I can still them when I blink- are those biscuits?"

Roz laughed, and gestured for him to take them. He took all three, and shoved them all in his mouth, biting down.

"You're a pig," Roz said, snorting as a few crumbs fell out his mouth. Minho just grinned, and focused on chewing.

* * *

Roz was woken up the next morning by a dull pain in her stomach. She groaned, curling up on her side and squeezing her eyes shut. She stayed like that for about an hour, breathing evenly, rubbing her stomach. "Shuck," she whispered to herself, "shuck, shuck, shuck shuck shuck." Finally, the other Gladers began waking up and the Doors opened. The Box with supplies also arrived. Roz ate little at breakfast, and brushed off Newt and Minho's concern, before waving into the Maze with a tight-lipped smile. Then she trotted off to the Med-jack hut.

"Jeff?" she called, wincing as a particularly strong pain pulled through her stomach.

"Yah? Hey, Roz, what's wrong?" Jeff popped up from where he was rearranging his new supplies behind the table.

"Have you got any painkillers?" she asked. Jeff hummed to himself, rummaging around in a box, before pulling out a bottle of pills.

"Yup, there you go. How come?" he threw her the box, and she opened it, taking out a couple of pills and swallowing it.

"Stomach ache," she said vaguely, "mind if I keep these? I don't think it's going to go away any time soon."

Jeff nodded and shrugged, "Come back if you need anything." Roz nodded and pocketed the painkillers, making her way back over to the box.

"Hey, Max?" she called. He looked up from where he was looking over the supplies left in the Box. "There haven't been any… packets of… like…" she knitted her eyebrows together, "cotton pads or sticks or… something like that in the Box, have there?"

Max shook his head, looking incredibly confused, "haven't seen any, why?"

Roz huffed and crossed her arms, "Shuck," she muttered, before walking away. She ignored Max calling out her name, and she made her way to the kitchen. Gally and a few of his Builders were in there getting an early lunch. "I take it it's very unlikely you have any kind of ice cream?" Roz said. Frypan looked up from where he was cleaning his oven, and snorted.

"Yeah, none of that klunk. Why?" he asked. She sighed and hopped up onto the counter. Frypan yelped and whacked her with a towel, but she ignored it.

"Got a craving," she answered. Frypan thought for a second, and then rummaged around in a fridge.

"Well, I did make a batch of these earlier?" he pulled out a brown cupcake. It looked a bit misshapen, with a dip in the top, but Roz held out a hand and took it.

"How come you never told us about these?" Gally asked. Frypan shrugged.

"Still don't have the right ingredients but… I've been thinking," he leaned against the counter, "I might try and request something."

"Whaddya mean?" Roz asked, through a mouthful of dry cake.

"In the Box. We get supplies, right? So there must be someone loading them up. Maybe… I mean it's unlikely, but I can try right?"

Roz stopped chewing for a moment, and the Builders glanced at each other. "You think they're gonna let us have whatever we want?" Gally asked, incredulously. Frypan shrugged,

"Maybe, maybe not, but it's worth a shot," he replied.

"I might join you in that actually," One of the Builders said, "do you reckon they'd take clothing requests? I kind of want to wear normal jeans…" he looked down at his legs, where he was currently wearing beige shorts.

"I dunno. But worth a shot, right?" Frypan said.

"I think I'm gonna join that as well," Roz said, going back to chewing on her cake. Soon, the other Builders in the kitchen also joined, even Gally, having ideas of things they could ask for.

So, Roz snagged some paper and pens from the map room, and Roz wrote down a list in large, shaky letters. She couldn't remember learning to read or write, but apparently she could. When she finished, her list read

 _THIS IS FROM THE ONLY GIRL IN THE MAZE YOU'VE PUT US IN_

 _I NEED EITHER TAMPONS OF TAMPAX? PLEASE? AND SOME MORE PAINKILLERS._

 _THANK YOU_

Roz, Frypan, and the Builders made their way to the Box, where Max had just hauled the last of the supplies out. When he saw Roz, he bent down and picked up a box.

"Hey, is this what you were talking about?" he asked, holding it out to her. Roz furrowed her brows and stuck her list in her pocket, before taking the box and opening it. Inside was a stack of sanitary towels.

"Yes!" she yelled, fist pumping the air, "the Creators care vaguely about our comfort!"

"What do you need them for?" Max asked.

"My period's soon; I woke up with cramps this morning," Roz answered, closing the box. The boys around her all made the same face.

"Ew," Max muttered. Roz rolled her eyes and whacked his arm.

"Oh, grow up," she said, "right I'm gonna go down some more painkillers then give Zart a hand in the gardens."

"Uh, aren't you going to put your list in the Box?" Frypan asked.

"Ah, no well, I don't need to," she held up her box, "but good luck guys, I hope you get whatever you asked for," she smiled, and then walked away.

She placed the box of sanitary towels on the shelf in the showers she had claimed as her own, along with the soap she refused to let anyone else use, and then set off to help the Track-hoes dig up vegetables.

* * *

 **Well. A very important chapter dealing with very important things XD Seriously though hope you liked this chapter. Thanks to TMRisLIFE and fiercetiger333 for reviewing the last chapter. I'd really love it if you guys could let me know what you think :D x**


	10. Chapter 9: Bonfire

Chapter 9: Bonfire

Tensions in the Glade reached a breaking point. Multiple fights a day were happening, over the tiniest of things. The Runners pushed themselves even harder, sometimes barely making it back before the Doors closed, and then spending hours in the Map Room. Multiple times, Roz had to drag Newt or Minho out to dinner, only for them to return straight after. She'd then have to force them out and make them lie down, listening to them complain about how they weren't tired and had work for them to do, only to fall unconscious almost as soon as they laid down.

By the time the Box with supplies came up the next week, Roz wasn't even bothering to help out with other jobs. Her and her Baggers were just patrolling the Glade, trying to stop fights before they even happened.

At least no one had died in a while.

When the supplies came up, Roz and Max jumped down, as usual, and surveyed the contents. Instantly, Roz noticed there were a lot of things there that hadn't been there the previous two weeks.

"Daniel!" she called, "go get Frypan and ask about for the Builders that requested things! Tell them I think it was successful!"

Daniel ran off as they started unloading the supplies. Roz spotted a collection of large glass bottles in one of the corner, and picked one up, reading the label. "Ethanol? Who the hell requested _ethanol_?" she asked.

"That would be me." She looked up to see Gally's grinning face, and she handed the bottle up to him.

"What are you planning to do, get drunk?" she snorted. Gally's grin widened.

"Wait and see," he said. Roz paused in hauling up another bottle.

"Wait, what?" she asked. Gally sighed, and pulled the bottle off her.

"C'mon, you've noticed how everyone's real angry at the moment, right?" he said, as they continued to haul the bottles of ethanol out.

"Yeah…" Roz replied.

"Me and some of the Builders have an idea to help cool things off. Already spoke about it to Alby. Just wait. Couple days and hopefully they'll be less fights and your job'll get easier."

Roz snorted, "Gally, so long as you're around, my job would never be easy."

Gally laughed loudly, "Ah well, you've got to have _someone_ actually giving you a job, right?" Roz rolled her eyes and he and a couple Builders took the bottles of ethanol away.

Frypan was happy to get his ingredients, saying eagerly how he could finally make cakes and biscuits properly now. A couple of Builders were disappointed, not getting everything they requested. Apparently the Creators didn't want them to have a TV.

* * *

A couple of days later, the Builders set about a project in the centre of the Glade. Pulling logs of wood and piling them up, high. A few seemed to be making… drums? Convincing Winston and Frypan to give them animal skin to stretch over tubes of wood. They were all babbling excitedly amongst themselves, refusing to answer anyone's questions about what they were doing.

As the sky started to get darker, Roz stood about watching them. They were now fiddling about with large sticks, shaving down the tips and pretending to throw them like a javelin. As she watched, Gally came over to her, holding a couple of jars filled with dull yellow liquid.

"Is this what you were talking about the other day?" she asked, gesturing to the tower of wood. Gally grinned, looking proud.

"Yup!" he said, "and this is what the ethanol was for." He passed her a jar, and then took a swig out of his own. Roz eyed it suspiciously, then, at Gally's eye roll, took a sip. The taste sprang on her tongue and burned down her throat, and she coughed. Gally laughed, whacking her on the back. "Try again, second swig's always better."

"How do you know how to make this?" she asked, her voice slightly rasping. Gally shrugged.

"Same way Frypan knows how to cook, I suppose." Roz steeled herself, and took another sip. He was right, it went down easier. Gally laughed again, before going over to his fellow Builders.

"What is this?" Roz turned around to see Newt approaching, staring at the tower of wood. Roz shrugged.

"Builders did it. They won't tell us what, but Gally made alcohol. I think they're planning some sort of party? To help relieve tension?"

Newt looked dubious, but before he could say anything, Minho and Hans ran past him, clapping him on the back. "C'mon, dude, we have maps to draw up." Newt shot her a look, before running after them.

Soon, though, as the sky got even darker, Alby ordered all the Runners out of the Map Room to the kitchen. Frypan then gave them all their plate of dinner, and sent them back outside. Newt and Minho wandered over to Roz, who was standing with Max in the crowd, both of them holding a plate of food. Roz was also still holding the jar of alcohol Gally had given her, now half gone. She grinned at them as they approached, her eyes a little hazy.

"Hey!" she said, her voice a loud whisper, "I told you the Builders set something up!"

Indeed, at the front of the crowd, the Builders stood, each holding a flaming stick. Alby also stood there, smiling at them all. "Gladers!" he yelled, over the babbling, "You've all been pains in my arse recently, and I'm sure Roz would agree after breaking up so many fights."

"Hell yeah you have!" Roz yelled, holding up her drink. There were a few chuckles.

"So, in a hope to relieve stress, here! Have a shucking bonfire!"

With great extravagance, the Builders launched their flaming sticks into the tower, and all the Gladers gasped and cheered as the fire roared up towards the dark sky. Roz laughed and stumbled into Newt.

"Shuck, sorry," she said, still giggling. Newt smiled at her, steadying her, shaking his head.

Everyone ate their dinner outside, and jars of Gally's brew was passed around. People played on the newly made drums, sending vibrations and beats through the air, and Gladers danced around the fire, flipping around each other and getting perhaps a bit too close to the flames, but no one seemed to care. In a bid to further soothe the need to fight, Gally set up a kind of boxing ring, challenging Gladers to try and push him to the ground. At one point, Roz stepped up.

"You ready, shank?" Gally yelled, a grin on his face. Roz bent down into a stance.

"Hell no!" she yelled. Around her, the Gladers cheered. She saw Newt, holding both his own and her (second) jar, yelling for her.

Gally charged at her, and they both clasped their hands onto each other's arms. Roz managed to hold her own for a while. She was smaller than Gally, but managed to use that to unbalance him, tugging at his shoulders to pull him down. Eventually, though, he managed to slam her into the ground, but fell down next to her. Roz burst out laughing, letting the Gladers' cheers roll over and through her as she stood up. She held out a hand to help Gally up, and stepped out the way to allow space for the next contender.

She grabbed her jar of brew off Newt, and then pulled him away from the crowd. They fell down by the fire, both laughing.

"Well done!" Newt praised her, clapping her on the back. Roz downed about a quarter of her brew, then placed it carefully on the ground, and threw her hands into the air.

"Please! I throw him in the slammer every other day! I let him win!" she said. Newt nodded, a smile breaking through his very serious expression.

"Yes, of course you did," he said, snorting. Roz let out a sound of indignation, and rammed a shoulder into him, knocking him sideways. She burst out laughing as he righted himself shaking his head.

"This was a good idea," she said, picking up her drink and bringing it to her lips. Newt looked around, taking in the laughing and dancing and fighting and fire, and he nodded.

"Yeah, it was," he replied.

"I hope we do this again in the future," Roz said, blinking slowly. She downed the rest of her drink, dropped her jar, and then rested her head on Newt's shoulder. He smiled to himself, staring into the fire.

* * *

The next morning, all the Gladers woke up, all scattered around the now dead bonfire. Roz cracked her eyes open, groaning at the banging in her head. Sitting up carefully, she looked around. On one side of her, not even a foot away, Newt was sprawled, his mouth wide open, but it closed as he twitched awake. A few feet away on the other side, Daniel was using Max's stomach as a pillow, cuddling an empty jar. Roz snorted.

"Ugh, what the bloody hell is wrong with my head?" Newt asked, still with his eyes closed, rubbing his temple.

"I think it's called a hangover?" Roz replied, smiling lightly.

"Bluh," Newt mumbled, sticking his tongue out. Roz sniggered, and looked around, seeing slightly pain expressions on everyone's faces. But they also all had small smiles, some of them chatting away quietly, and the tension in the air seemed much less thick than the day before. It was easier to breathe. Roz caught Gally's eye from the other side of the burnt logs, and she threw him a thankful smile, and he nodded at her. Roz looked back to Newt, and laughed as he held his hand over his face, groaning.

* * *

 **Lol does it count as underage drinking if there's no government around to make a law about it? Ah well, its not like teens actually pay attention to that shit ;) Thank you fiercetiger333 for reviewing :D As always, I'd love it if you guys let me know what you think**


	11. Chapter 10: Green Bean

Chapter 10: Green Bean

Everyone in the Glade was shot awake by the alarm. A deafening blaring, echoing across the Glade and into the Maze. Roz sprung up onto her feet, looking around wildly.

"What the shuck is that?!" she screeched. She looked towards the Doors, fearing something was going to come out of it. All around, boys were panicking, yelling at each other and trying to find the source of the noise. Alby made his way over to the centre of the Glade, trying, and failing, to calm everyone down.

"Maybe we're getting out of here?" Minho suggested. Roz stared at him, not knowing if she wanted to think the same thing.

"I dunno I don't like the sound of this," Newt replied, raising his voice so he could be heard.

"It's a blaring alarm why would _anyone_ like the sound of it?!" Roz shrieked. Newt placed a hand on her arm, trying to calm her down. She pulled away, running towards Max and pulling him down so she could speak into his ear. Newt watched as they split, motioning to the other Baggers to try and keep the peace. The Gladers had begun congregating around Alby, and the Baggers set about the pushing them back, keeping the crowd from breaking into chaos. Newt shot Minho a look before trotting off towards the crowd, pushing through. Roz attempted to stop him, so caught up in pushing everyone back, before she looked up and saw his face, and then let him pass. When he reached Alby, he saw he was staring at the Box.

"Sounds like something's coming up," Alby said. Newt looked at him, bewildered, before listening closely. True to Alby's word, under the sound of the alarm, the rattling of the Box could be heard.

"Why the alarm then?" Newt asked. Alby looked at him, concerned, and shrugged,

"Could be something dangerous," he suggested. Newt breathed in heavily, before turning.

"Roz!" he yelled. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised, "get everyone back! Something's coming up in the Box! We don't know if it's dangerous!"

Roz gave him a nod, before turning back to the crowd. "You heard the boy!" she shouted, her voice even louder than Newt's, ringing clear even above the crowd and the alarm, "get the shuck back! Way back! Oi! Gally sort ya shuck builders out! Runners! Keep an eye on the Doors! C'mon boys. Get. The. Hell. Back!"

Roz finally managed to disperse the boys somewhat, but they still clustered together, standing on their toes so they could keep looking at the Box.

And then the alarm stopped.

Roz turned and looked at Alby and Newt, as they realised the Box had stopped moving as well. The boys started buzzing amongst themselves, and Max pushed back a few of them. Alby and Newt glanced at each other, and Alby nodded. Roz fell into a protective stance as they pulled the doors to the Box open. Silence fell upon the Glade as they stared down, surprised.

"What is it?" Roz asked, still curled in on herself. Newt looked back at them.

"It's a person…" he answered. Roz blinked and, slowly, straightened up. She walked forward, and looked over Newt's shoulder. Indeed, a boy was curled up in the corner of the Box. He was small, about thirteen, with sweat drenched black hair and brown skin. He was shaking, his eyes flicking between the three of the wildly, his breathing laboured.

Slowly, Newt lowered himself, crouching at the edge of the Box. The boy whimpered, curling into himself even more. "Hello?" Newt said, his voice so soft only Roz, Alby and the boy could hear it, "where did you come from?"

The boy stared up, and he swallowed. Any answer he might have given came out in a choked sob, and he shook violently. Newt glanced up helplessly, before back down. "We need to know where you came from," Newt said, still soft, but this time with a stern edge.

"I-I-I…" the boy stuttered out, "I don't _remember_!" Then he went back to sobbing. Roz looked at Alby as Newt stood up, brushing off his hands.

"A new boy with no memory," he murmured, "from the Creators?"

"Must be," Roz answered. Behind them, the Gladers were still buzzing.

"He'll remember his name," Alby said. Newt nodded, and crouched down again. "Roz, get everyone back to routine. If they ask, just say a new boy was sent up, nothing else."

"We don't _know_ anything else," Roz rolled her eyes. But she nudged Newt with her foot in goodbye, and returned to the Gladers, attempting to restore order.

About twenty minutes later, she'd managed to get everyone to either breakfast, or to their jobs. She assigned her Baggers to patrol the Glade, stopping anyone from approaching Alby and Newt. Roz herself stood around the Builders, arms crossed, watching Gally chopped wood.

"So an alarm sounds," Gally said, "scaring the klunk out of us all," he paused to swing, "and a new kid comes up in the box," he grabbed a piece of wood and took another swing, "who, like us," another swing, "doesn't remember anything."

"Mmm," Roz replied, watching as Gally's axe swung up, split the wood with a _crack_ , as the two halves were thrown onto the pile, and another replaced it. "Newt's trying to coax him out softly, I think," she added, glancing to where Newt was still crouched by the Box, his lips moving as he murmured softly. Gally snorted.

"Shoulda just hauled him out into the open," he said. Another _crack_ and another split log. Roz laughed, shaking her head.

"The kids sobbing into his knees, Gally, I don't think throwing him out into the open would've helped anything."

Gally shrugged, "Guess that's why I'm not in charge of 'coaxing' the newbie out the Box." Roz laughed again, humming in agreement, when movement caught in the corner of her eye.

"Oi! Jeff! Where'd you think you're going?" she called. Jeff stopped walking, turned, and rolled his eyes.

"To see if this kid needs any medical attention," he said. Roz glanced at Alby, who caught her eye and nodding. She sighed, and waved Jeff off, and then caught another kid trying to follow him.

"You, however!" she pointed, "back to work!" Gally looked up and saw the kid was one of his Builders, and shot him a glare that sent the kid scurrying away. "Nosy bastards," Roz muttered. Gally laughed to himself, going back to splitting logs.

After a while, Alby caught her eye again, waving her over, so she bid goodbye to Gally and left. Jeff was talking to Alby, and Newt was still at the edge of the Box, murmuring.

"Jack, this is Roz," Newt said, as she arrived, "She's the Keeper of the Baggers."

"B-Baggers?" The new kid, Jack, seemed to have calmed down a lot. He'd stopped crying, his face now dry and red, and wasn't curled as tightly as before.

"Ah," Newt hesitated, "she keeps the peace."

"Can you get the kid some breakfast?" Alby asked, "Something extra fatty and stodgy."

Roz crossed her arms, popping out her hip, "you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, "Kid looks like he's about to throw up."

"He needs to get food in him," Jeff said. Roz shrugged and nodded, making her way over to the kitchen. She got the Newbie's breakfast off of Frypan, and then snagged a couple bacon sandwiches from the side. She pursed her lips in a mock kiss when he yelled at her, and giggled as she left. She dropped the breakfast off at the Box, loitered for a second to hear Newt finally convincing Jack to leave after he'd eaten, and then took the stolen bacon sandwiches over to Gally, handing him one and then eating her own.

"Find anything out?" Gally asked, dropping his axe and falling onto the floor next to Roz.

"Not sure I'm meant to tell ya," she answered, through a mouthful of food.

"Ah, c'mon," he nudged her. Roz rolled her eyes and shrugged, swallowing.

"Ain't much to say. His name's Jack. He don't remember nothing, just like us when we arrived. He ain't crying now and Newt's managed to get him to come out after he's eaten."

Jack ventured out of the Box a while later, cowering away from all the stares the Gladers gave him. Newt sent them all scowls, making them return to their work. Newt and Alby led Jack into the Med-jack hut, pointing at various parts of the Glade as they walked. Alby left some time later, heading over to the Homestead.

At lunch, Newt bought Jack into the kitchen, and, after picking up a plate of food each, sat down next to Roz. She looked up, and nodded. "How's it going?" she asked. Jack shrugged, digging about his beans on toast with a fork. Newt sighed.

"C'mon Green Bean, if you wanna fit in here you need to bloody talk."

Jack swallowed, and looked up at Roz. "It's going fine," he said in a small voice. Newt grimaced.

"Green Bean?" she asked. Newt shrugged, stuffing a forkful in his mouth.

"So how're you fitting into everyday Glader life?" Roz asked. Jack shrugged. Newt looked at him expectantly, and Jack looked up again.

"Newt said to… I don't remember what I'm good at so… he said to work around a bit? And then see where I work best."

Newt rolled his eyes, shooting Roz a withering glance. Roz raised an eyebrow and he sighed. "He'll be knocking about with the Baggers in a couple days. See how he fairs at hauling Gally across the Glade." Roz snorted, and, seeing that what Newt said was apparently funny, Jack tried to crack a smile. Tried being the operative word.

They ate in silence for a while, until Jack, with about a quarter of his beans on toast left, pushed the plate away and mumbled that he was going back to the Med-jack hut. Newt frowned, watching him leave, but didn't follow. When Jack was out of sight, his eyes went to the Maze.

"How far do you reckon I could get this afternoon?" he asked. Roz looked up, confused, and followed his eyes. Then she rolled her own.

"Not very," she replied, "not to anywhere where it starts changing. Have a break today, Newt. Please."

Newt rolled his shoulders back, "I feel restless. By this time I'm usually out of breath and ready to collapse, have a half hour break, and then get back to it. It's weird, not being out there."

"It's _nice_ having you here," Roz said. Newt frowned at her.

"I know you don't like it out there-"

"That's an understatement."

"-But you know we need to run it. We _need_ to find a way out."

Roz sighed. "I know," she replied, and then looked back outside. "You said you were gonna send Green Bean around different jobs."

Newt shook his head, "Not with the Runners. I'm gonna talk to Minho later. But I'm not gonna take any Newbies until they've proven they can handle it."

"…You think we're gonna get more? Newbies, I mean?" Roz asked. Newt sighed, and shrugged.

"Maybe," he replied, "it would make sense. It would keep our numbers up, especially if we can be killed here."

Roz frowned, looking down at her now empty plate. Finally, she looked back up. "C'mon," she said, standing up, "You can help me with some patrolling."

They wandered around the Glade in silence, keeping an eye on everyone and making sure they were doing their jobs. Newt's eyes kept straying back to the Doors. He seemed jittery. Clenching his fists, stretching his neck, rolling his shoulders. As they wandered towards to woods, although it had recently become known as the Deadheads, he caught Roz glaring at him after he looked at the maze again.

"I know you hate it in there," he said, echoing his earlier statement. Roz rolled her eyes.

"Again, I say, that's an understatement." She turned to walk along the edge of the Deadheads, but Newt kept going, into the trees. Roz stopped, tilting her head to the side, before following him.

"I do too," Newt muttered. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, his shoulders were hunched, his face dropped towards the ground and his feet scuffed the dirt. Roz frowned at him.

"Then why do you go out there?" she asked, her voice soft, " _every day_?"

"Because I need to!" Newt exclaimed. He whirled around, facing Roz, his eyes hard and his mouth set harshly. Roz stopped walking, facing him, and raised an eyebrow. Newt sighed, and his face softened. "I need to." He repeated, "It's our only bloody way out. It's got to be. And I need to find it."

Roz stepped forward. Twigs snapped under her feet and the trees were silent above them. She caught a Beetle-Blade hopping away in the corner of her eye. Slowly, she placed her hands on Newt's arms, curling her fingers around them softly and watching his face. "We have other Runners, Newt."

Newt shook his head, and didn't meet her eyes. "I hate it out there," he muttered, "Every day, for the past month, I've been out there and it's just grey walls and ivy and shadows and being scared Grievers are gonna roll around the corner. But… I _need_ to go out there, Roz," he finally looked at her, "I _can run_. Not all of us can. Not all of us could survive out there. _I can_. So long as I can I _need_ to be out there…"

Roz stood there in silence, her thumbs brushing along Newt's arms. They both stood there, breathing, frowning, staring at each other. Eventually, Roz nodded sadly. "I know," she whispered. She slid her arms down, over Newt's elbows, down his forearms, to his hands. She took them loosely. "I know."

* * *

 **Well, I don't really have much to say here, apart that from now time skips between chapters will be getting longer. Instead of just a day or two between chapters, it'll start skipping a couple weeks. Gotta move things along y'know? Thank you to ScarletWitch662 and fiercetiger333 for reviewing :) As always. I'd love to hear your thoughts, so drop us a review :) x**


	12. Chapter 11: Mysterious Blue Serum

Chapter 11: Mysterious Blue Serum

"Greenie's with you today, Roz," Newt said, leading Jack over to her at breakfast. Roz nodded, and Newt gave her a small smile before jogging out of the kitchen towards the Maze. Roz sighed. She hadn't voiced her displeasure with him going into the Maze since their conversation in the Deadheads a few days ago, but since he'd admitted his hatred, she could see it taking its toll on him. He'd always spent longer in the Map Room after returning than the other Runners, save maybe Minho. He'd always left earlier and always returned later. And, despite always looking exhausted, he didn't fall asleep easily at night. Sometimes, Roz stayed up with him. Sometimes they talked, whispering to each other so they didn't wake anyone up, but most of the time they just laid there, watching each other in the dark, breathing together, until one of them couldn't fight off sleep any longer.

"So, uh, what exactly do the… Baggers do?" Jack asked, snapping Roz out of her thoughts. He'd come out of his shell over the past few days, talking more and looking less scared.

"Well, a lot of the time we actually just help out with odd jobs," she replied, "but we also patrol around the Glade, making sure everything goes smoothly. If fights happen, we split them up, put the fighters in the Slammer. We also help the Builders with heavy lifting. And we, uh," she watched Jack's face carefully, "when someone dies, we bag them up, which is why we're called the Baggers, dig their grave and bury them."

The colour drained from Jack's face. "When someone… dies?" he squeaked. Roz sighed.

"Yeah. Three boys have died since we got here. One was attacked by a Griever, another was trapped in the Maze overnight, and another…" she swallowed, looking away, "an escape attempt that didn't work." Jack frowned, and Roz looked at him, smiling tightly at him, "Right. Let's get going then."

She introduced Jack to the rest of her Baggers, before taking him out to the Deadheads. She showed him the graves of Leo, Graham and Edward. They didn't stay long, Roz wasn't too eager to spend too long in the graveyard, so she took him back to the grave and showed him where they kept the shovels and body bags. Then they set out on a patrol.

"I… Roz?" Jack asked, as they passed the Builders. Roz pulled herself away from sticking her tongue out at Gally to look at him, humming. "You're the… are you the only girl here? Newt mentioned something briefly yesterday but…"

Roz nodded. "Yeah, I am. And before you ask, no, we have no idea why."

"Is that not… I mean. Do you not feel strange?"

"Nah," Roz shrugged, "at first I was… afraid. But everyone was afraid at first."

If Jack was going to reply, he didn't get a chance, as a commotion broke out on the other side of the Glade. "Oh for-" Roz rolled her eyes, " _Gally if that's you swear to_ -"

" _Cut me some slack, ya shank!"_ Gally yelled from somewhere, " _It ain't always me_!"

Roz huffed, and glanced at Jack, "Hope you got some muscle on ya," she said, before walking over to where the yelling was coming from. Roz faltered when she saw that it wasn't actually a fight. It was, in fact, Newt and Minho dragging Alex and Hugo out of the Maze. The latter two were resisting violently, screaming and scratching at arms and yelling in pain. Newt and Minho were wincing and grunting with excretion, but refused to let go. And then, in an instant, Hugo collapsed. Minho stumbled, and tried to pull him up. Roz shot towards them, and saw Max follow her out of the crowd. She gestured for Max to help Minho lift Hugo up, while she attempted to grab Alex's arms and pull them behind his back. There were scratches along Newt's arm, a few beads of blood dripping onto the ground.

"What happened?!" she asked. Newt just grunted.

And then Alex collapsed. He slumped back into Roz's arms, and Newt let him, wincing and rubbing his wounded arms. Roz slung Alex's limp arm over her shoulder, hoisting him up.

"What. Happened?" she ground out through gritted teeth.

"They were attacked by Grievers," Minho panted out, "we both heard the shouting. Reached them and managed to pull them away."

"We're taking them to the Med-jacks," Roz said, and Max nodded. He pulled Hugo away. Newt slung Alex's other arm over his shoulder and helped Roz drag him across the Glade. They passed Jack, who was looking at them fearfully. Timidly, he almost followed, before grimacing, and scurrying away to the kitchen.

They'd just laid Hugo and Alex down on the beds in the Med-jack hut when Alby burst through the door, demanding to know what happened. Minho recounted the same tale he told Roz while Jeff looked over Hugo and Alex, opening their eyes and checking their pupils, counting their pulses and assessing their breathing.

Newt sat on another bed, and Roz pulled a box from one of the cupboards. She pulled out a small bottle and a rag, and, ignoring Newt's confused look, dampened the rag and took Newt's arm softly. He hissed in pain as she cleaned the blood up, and she shot him a withering look. After inspecting the now clean scratches, she let his arm go, leaving it to Jeff to decide if he needed a bandage or not, although she guessed he wouldn't.

"Look at these," Jeff was saying as they rejoined the group, pointing around Hugo's body, "they're pinpricks. Like they'd been… stung. Their pupils are blown, their pulses are erratic and their breathing is barely there. They're having… _some_ kind of reaction."

When he finished speaking, Hugo started twitching. Violently. His spine arched off the bed and broken yelps of pain rose from his throat. His eyelids fluttered, showing his eyes had rolled into the back of his head. He almost fell off the bed, but Roz skidded around the bed and slammed him back down into the bed. Jeff ran to his side, checking his pulse again. "It's getting faster!" he said.

And then Alex starting fitting as well. Newt yelped and went to hold him down. "It's got to be the Griever! They've shot something into them!" Newt said.

"Is there anything we can do?" Alby asked, his voice strained. Jeff looked up, his eyes hopeless, and he shrugged.

"I'm not… I'm a doctor dude, I'm just the best at wrapping bandages around here!" his voice broke, "I don't… we don't even know what the Grievers did!"

"Wait…" Roz said, stepping back from Hugo. "The Creators made these Grievers they know what they can do…"

"Any idea you've got would be greatly appreciated!" Jeff yelled.

"The injections!" Roz snapped, "That got sent up! What if they're for this?!"

Jeff looked up, realisation dawning on his face. "And what if they're not?" Alby asked.

"Do we really have a choice?" Roz asked. Alby paused for a moment, and then sighed, waving his hand.

"Where are they?" Minho asked.

"Top shelf second to the left," Jeff replied. Minho retrieved the box and took out one of the syringes, looking at the bright blue liquid inside. He passed it to Jeff, who hesitated for a moment, before sliding the needle into Hugo's bicep, and injected the blue serum into his veins. There was a moment when Hugo continued fitting violently, and then he relaxed, falling limp.

"Quickly, inject Alex," Alby said. Jeff did so, and, after another minute, he fell limp too. Everyone for tense for a moment, before finally relaxing themselves.

"It worked?" Roz asked, breathless.

"I think so…" Jeff said, nodding, "I hope so…"

"I want someone in here at all times, keeping an eye on them." Alby ordered.

When Roz, Newt and Minho left the Med-jack hut a few minutes later, Jack was waiting outside. He frowned at Roz, and she and Newt stopped. Minho continued on, muttering something about pestering Frypan for an early dinner.

"I don't think I want to be a Bagger," Jack muttered. Roz stared at him for a moment, before snorting, and then giggling, and then bursting out into full blown laughter. Jack stepped back, slightly unsure, and Newt just watched her with an amused look on his face.

"Don't worry 'bout it, Greenie," Roz ruffled his hair, "I didn't think you would."

Roz continued laughing, and Jack edged away, until he ended up jogging in the other direction.

"I think the stress is getting to you," Newt said, slinging an arm over Roz's shoulder as they continued walking.

"The stress of what?" Roz asked, a chuckled still in her voice. Newt shrugged.

"Life?" he suggested. Roz sighed, glancing at him.

"Ha, probably yeah," she waved him off, "Gally mentioned having another bonfire the other day. Might try and make it a regular thing, that'll help loosen us up."

"He gonna make more of that brew?" Newt asked.

"Shucking hope so!" Roz chirped, and Newt snorted. They continued wandering around the Glade, Newt's arm over Roz's shoulders, letting the stress come out in hysterics.

* * *

After dinner, just after the Walls closed, they heard screaming from the Med-jack hut. Roz and Newt glanced at each other, before running in the direction. They burst through the door to see Jeff and Minho holding Alex and Hugo down on the beds.

"It didn't work?!" Roz yelled. Jeff looked up, his eyes wide.

"No, it did. I'm sure it did," he answered, "I think this is part of it."

"What do you mean?" Roz took over from Jeff in holding down Hugo to give him a chance to breath.

"Their pupils are normal," Jeff explained, "their pulses, their breathing… irregular but no normal from what you'd have when in pain. More normal than it was hours ago."

"So this is just, what, after effects?" Newt asked. Jeff shrugged.

"I think so. I said before, I'm not a doctor. But I don't want to inject them again and risk overdose."

Roz and Minho looked at each other. "Then we wait it out and hope they recover," Minho said, grimly.

* * *

 **Welp. Here we go. The first Changings in the Glade. Thanks to Haway and fiercetiger333 for reviewing, especially since fiercetiger333 who coined the beautiful shipame rewt ;D It'd be great if you guys could review :D x**


	13. Chapter 12: The Changing

Chapter 12: The Changing

For the next two days, Hugo and Alex wavered between unconsciousness and screaming seizures. Roz, Jeff and Alby took shifts in watching then, with Minho, Newt, and the other Runners dropping in once they'd gotten back from the Maze each evening. Newt would sit with Roz when she took her shifts in the middle of the night, allowing Jeff to get a few hours' sleep. He'd bring his Maps from the Map room and spread them out on the floor, bouncing ideas off her to explain the changes or ways to escape. He'd nod off some point during the night, slumped against a cabinet with his head lolling forward. And then the next morning, even though he was exhausted and almost falling asleep on his feet, he'd go out and run himself ragged in the Maze. Roz would curl up in a bed in the corner of the Med-jack hut, worrying about him, until she managed to drift off. Only to be awoken an hour later by Alex's screaming.

And then, Alex was fine. Tired, and pale, and weak. But fine. Jeff kept him in the Med-jack hut for almost another day, but eventually let him go. When Minho refused to let him back into the Maze, however, insisting he needed more time to fully recover, both physically and mentally, Alex stormed off into the Deadheads.

"I… he's never been one to sulk…" Minho muttered. Roz rolled her eyes, and told him to leave him be.

That night, Roz took over watching Hugo, who hadn't fitted since Alex had woken, but he hadn't woken up either. Roz bid Jeff goodnight, and then sat in her usual spot. She hadn't allowed Newt to stay up with her that night. He had almost black out from exhaustion at dinner, so she'd forced him away, making Minho promise to keep him away and make him sleep.

After a few hours of dozing lightly against the wall, Roz was woken by shifting ahead of her. She opened her eyes to see Hugo sitting up shakily, looking around confused. Roz slid off the bed, walking towards him.

"Hugo?" she asked. She stopped when he looked at her, gasping. His pupils were blown, his irises fully black. He looked wild, scared and angry. Alex hadn't looked like this when he woke up. Breathing slowly, Roz held out a hand. "Hugo, it's me. It's Roz."

Hugo screamed, and lurched at her. Roz yelped as she jumped out the way, falling into a table. Hugo swung towards her again, and she scrambled away, Hugo ramming into a cupboard, pushing it over. Roz barely had time to react before it fell on her. She screamed in pain, feeing the weight crush her stomach and ribs.

" _ROZ_?!" a voice yelled. Hugo whirled around, sneering, and whoever had burst in yelped in shock. Roz let her head fall back onto the floor, focusing on her breathing. Each breath in was painful, her ribs creaking under the cupboard.

"Roz," Newt appeared over her vision, his eyes, bruised by exhaustion, wide with worry. "Roz I'm going to get this off you but it might hurt."

Roz nodded, groaning in pain. Newt stood up, steeled himself, before gripping the bottom of the cupboard. Roz let out a noise of pain at the movement. It felt like her ribs were grinding against each other, pressing into her lungs and constricting her breathing. The noises of a scuffle with Hugo sounded faraway. All she could hear was Newt muttering reassurances to her. He tried to lift again, but all it seemed to do was press down on Roz harder. She yelled. Newt cursed, and apologised.

"Ok, one more time. This should do it," Newt said. He breathed in heavily, gripped the cupboard, and pushed it up. Roz gasped in a breath and rolled out the way, and Newt let the cupboard fall back onto the floor. Looking up, Roz saw Minho, Gally and Jeff hauling Hugo out of the Med-jack hut.

Roz groaned, feeling an aching spreading through her torso. Newt knelt down beside her, rubbing his knuckles. "You ok?" he asked.

"I think I broke my ribs," Roz wheezed out. Newt swallowed, his hands hovering over her torso.

"I'm gonna have a look, ok?" he said. Roz nodded, and tried to ignore how painful breathing was as Newt slowly lifted up the bottom of her shirt. He grimaced. Dark bruises were already blooming across her stomach and ribs. Carefully, he prodded her ribs, ignoring her wincing, and finally pulled back.

"I don't think you've broken anything, but Jeff should check you out." He said. Again, Roz nodded.

"What was all that?" she waved towards the door. She could still hear Hugo's yelling, far far away. "Alex didn't do that."

Newt frowned, and shrugged. "I don't know," he answered.

Jeff returned after they'd locked Hugo in the Slammer to find Roz still lying on the floor, and Newt still sitting next to her. He checked over Roz's ribs, assured her she was just bruised, and not broken, before offering her to sleep in a bed to help with the pain. She declined, but after seeing her constant grimace as she tried to walk out the door, both Newt and Jeff forced her onto one of the cots. Grumbling under her breath, she ignored Newt's chuckle as he threw a blanket over her, and saw him walk away. Blinking blearily, she saw him throw a last worried glance over his shoulder before she fell asleep.

* * *

The next day she woke up to screaming outside. She also ached all over. Steeling herself, she pushed herself out of bed, grunting as her ribs creaked and muscles pulsed. She took a moment to catch her breath, before hobbling across the Med-jack hut. She glanced around for Jeff, but he was nowhere to be found.

Pushing the aching in her ribs to the back of her mind, Roz pushed the door open and looked around the Glade. Screaming was coming from the Slammer, but no one seemed to be paying it any mind. Everyone else was going about their usual jobs. Judging by the fact that she could see Gally and a couple other Builders making their way it he kitchen, she guessed it was later than she'd originally thought it was. Gally and about half the other Builders always ate lunch late, after the rest of the Glade, so it must've been around mid-afternoon. Roz rubbed her temples, wondering how she'd slept so late. Sighing, she spotted Alby by the gardens, and made her way over.

"What's with the screaming Slammer?" she asked. Alby looked up, surprised. There was a gash across his cheek.

"Roz you feeling alright? Jeff said you had a few injuries after yesterday," he said. Roz shrugged, and regretted it, as the movement pulled her ribs up and slammed them back down.

Gritting her teeth, she said, "I'm fine. Just bruised. But what's with the screaming?"

Alby sighed, running a hand over his tired face. "Hugo hasn't stopped attacking people since he woke up. All last night he tried to get at Daniel through the bars of the Slammer. We let him out this morning and he went straight for Jeff. Tried to get him out again 'bout half hour ago and got this," he pointed at the cut on his face. Roz knitted her eyebrows together, looking towards the Slammer. She could see Jeff milling about outside the doors, checking over another Glader.

"Alex didn't do this," Roz said, looking back to Alby. He frowned.

"That's the thing," he said, "Alex… ain't Alex anymore. He's moody. Hasn't come out the Deadheads since yesterday. Had to get people to take him food. Me and Jeff spoke to Newt and Minho this morning, before they went off. We think that serum saved them from the Griever sting, but they've reacted differently. Alex is safe, but he's changed. Hugo is…" Alby closed his eyes and shook his head, "Well. We're gonna have a gathering later but. I don't think we can keep him here."

Roz blinked, dread pulling her stomach down. "What are you talking about?"

"We can't… if he keeps attacking people… he could seriously hurt someone. I propose we… send him into the Maze. Banish him, I guess. "

Roz gaped at him, her mouth wide open. Before she could answer, Jeff jogged over to them. "Roz!" he said, almost cheerily, "You shouldn't be walking around yet! C'mon come back to the Med-jack hut. I'll look you over again and see how bad the damage is."

She gave Alby one last look, and he sighed helplessly at her, before she allowed Jeff to lead her away. In the Med-jack hut, he checked over her ribs and bruises again, before telling her she should probably take it easy for about a week, and gave her some painkillers. She spent the rest of the day sitting with Gally, sanding down blocks of wood for him while he split logs with his axe.

* * *

 **Thank you to fiercetiger333 (I'm in love with your puns. Seriously.) and mmmartta3 for reviewing. I now have more reviews than I do chapters XD I feel like this chapter ends a bit abruptly; sorry 'bout that, originally the next chapter was also a part of this one but it ended up being too long and here was the only place I could really split it. Anyways, I'd love it if you guys could review :D x**


	14. Chapter 13: The Banishment

Chapter 13: The Banishment

When the Runners returned to the Maze, they and Alby attempted to calm Hugo out of the Slammer one more time. Roz watched as there was a small scuffle, before the door was slammed shut again, with Hugo inside. Newt dropped down by her side twenty minutes later, sporting a black eye and two plates of dinner.

"Ouch," Roz said, her voice flat and toneless as she accepted the plate. Newt shrugged and picked a sort of icepack off his plate, pressing it to his eye.

"Jeff said you were feeling better," he said. Roz gave a half shrug. Throughout the day, she'd learnt exactly how much she could move certain parts of her body without causing any pain.

"I'm not allowed to fight anybody, walking hurts, breathing's a pain and I'm swallowing pills every couple hours, but yeah. I'm good," she said. Newt gave her a weak smile, pulling the icepack away, hissing in pain. Roz rolled her eyes, took a bite from the toast she was holding, and reached over, plucking the ice pack from his hand.

"Give it here, you're doing it wrong," she muttered, before carefully laying the pack over Newt's face. He looked at her, confused.

"How can I hold ice on my face wrong?" he asked.

"Well you're not meant to put it over your actual eye, are you?" Roz scoffed, "you're meant to put it on the swelling… which in your case is _under_ your eye." Newt frowned in distaste, and shrugged.

"How do you even know that?"

"Its common sense you slinthead."

They sat in silence for a while, eating their dinner, with Roz lifting the icepack every now and then to check on the injury. After about twenty minutes, as the ice was beginning to melt and leak through the towel it was wrapped up in, she carefully peeled it away from Newt's face to see that the swelling had reduced, and dropped it on his now empty plate.

"Feeling better?" she asked. Newt made a very odd twitching movement with his face, scrunching up his nose and eyes and moving his eyebrows up and down.

"I can't feel my face," he said. Roz snorted. It didn't take long, however, for Newt's face to become sombre.

"Did Alby tell you about the Gathering?" he asked. Roz frowned, and nodded.

"Said he wanted to… Banish Hugo." She replied.

"None of us _want_ to Banish him!" Newt exclaimed, "But we… if we want to keep ourselves safe we…"

"I know," Roz said, placing a hand on his shoulder, "that's what I meant."

So, as night started to settle in, all the Keepers headed to the Council Hall and sat in their chairs. Alby explained the situation with Hugo and then, with a pained expression on his face, gave the suggestion of Banishing him.

"What? We can't do that!" Frypan exclaimed, "Send him out into the Maze… _overnight_ and _hope_ he gets killed by Grievers so we don't have to do it ourselves?"

"I know it's not a pleasant prospect but-"

Alby was cut off by Gally, who said, "But what? We're meant to be looking after our own here. We can't send someone off to be killed!"

"And if we keep him here we're putting ourselves in danger," Newt said, "He's tried to attack five times. He almost killed Roz!"

"I don't think he meant to trap me under a cupboard Newt," Roz muttered.

"It doesn't matter whether he meant to or not," Minho said, "If… if to keep the rest of us safe, we need to… Banish him. Then we need to."

There was more arguing. Winston wanted to wait it out, see if it got better. Zart was adamant they couldn't take that risk and that keeping him locked up in the Slammer for an indefinite amount of time wasn't any better. Minho declared he knew no one was happy about it but it needed to be done. Gally went on about protecting their own. Roz argued for keeping the rest of the Gladers safe. Jeff said he couldn't be sure he could even treat someone if something more serious than Roz's crushed chest happened because of Hugo. Newt yelled over Gally, shouting that Banishing Hugo _was_ protecting their own. The rest of their own. Alby stayed quiet, watching the argument going back and forth, and only stood up when it looked like a full on fist fight was about to happen between Newt and Gally.

He called for a vote. All who didn't want to banish Hugo. Three votes, including Gally. All who did. At first, no one rose their hand. All who thought they _needed_ to Banish Hugo. Slowly, nine Keepers rose their hands.

"Then it's settled. Tomorrow, just before the doors close. We… put him out there. And leave him."

Roz didn't follow Minho and Newt to their usual sleeping spot when they left the Gathering. She ignored Newt's worried look and him calling out her name as she walked away, towards the Map Room. She leaned against the outside of it, arms crossed, staring up at the sky, and wished more than anything that she could see stars.

"You know we can't do anything about Hugo." Roz looked up and saw Minho standing next to her, watching her with worried eyes. She shrugged.

"In case you didn't notice, I was one of the ones arguing to lock him out there," she said, bitterly, "I know there's nothing we can do."

"Doesn't mean you have to like it, though," Minho said. Roz barked out a humourless laugh.

"Yeah well, I don't much like anything here, do I?" she snapped. Minho frowned, watching her. She shifted, and he saw her wince, a hand going to her ribs.

"He's worried about you, you know," he said, "Newt, I mean. I think he thinks he made your ribs worse when he pushed the cupboard off you."

Roz rolled her eyes. "Yeah, well he shouldn't," she muttered.

"Shouldn't worry about you, or shouldn't think he made it worse?"

"Both," she snapped, again. She looked up at Minho, a slight glare in her eyes, before she pushed away, muttering about going to sleep. Newt looked up at her when she arrived, and sat up, opening his mouth, but the stormy look on her face stopped him from talking. She looked at him, her glare dimming slightly, and she just frowned at the ground, before turning away and curling up on the ground. Minho laid down on the other side of Newt, and shrugged helplessly. Newt lied back down, staring up at the sky. When he heard Roz's breathing even out, he rolled onto his side and scooted closer to her. He didn't quite touch her, but he dipped his head near to her shoulder blades, placing a hand near her head. His fingers found a strand of her hair, and he fiddled with it lightly as he drifted into sleep.

* * *

They tried to let Hugo out of the Slammer one more time the next day. Just in case. Roz sat in one of the tall look out towers the Builders had put up recently, watching. The attempted ended in Gally and Alby forcing Hugo back into his cell. She saw Alby speaking to Gally, sternly, and then Gally stalking away. Her eyes drifted back to the Slammer. She'd told Max and Daniel to alternate in guarding it. Currently, Max was trying to ignore Hugo's banging and screams.

She spent all day up in the watch tower, legs kicking backwards and forwards and humming to herself. The Greenie, Jack, came up and brought her lunch, announcing proudly that he'd joined Frypan in the kitchen. A while later, one of the younger Builders brought her some small blocks of wood, telling her it was waste and that Gally suggested she might try to entertain herself with it. In the end, she started slowly whittling away at the wood with the small knife she carried in her pocket. By the time dinner rolled around, she had half of a poorly whittled dog.

She saw the Runners trickling back into the Glade. As always, Newt was the last in, dragging himself out of the Maze, breathing heavily and looking exhausted. She frowned, following him with her eyes as he stumbled over to the kitchen. She knew he hadn't slept well the previous night, even worse than usual. She'd felt him playing with her hair for a few hours while she was half asleep. She hadn't mentioned it though, hoping he might sleep better tonight.

Alby called the Glade towards the South Door. Roz could hear his voice ringing clearly across the Glade as he explained what had happened to Hugo and what they needed to do. She heard several boys break out in protests, but Alby silenced them quickly. Finally, she forced herself down from the watch tower, wincing as the movements aggravated her ribs. They were better than yesterday, but still ached.

As she approached, Max and Marvin were pulling Hugo, kicking and screaming, away from the Slammer, towards the Door. She walked in front of them, watching the crowd of teenage boys' part, sad and scared, to let them through. Gally, with a stony face, passed several long, sturdy sticks with sharpened points around to Alby, Newt, Minho, Zart and Winston, and kept one for himself. He'd been making them all day, refusing to let anyone else help.

" _WHAT ARE YOU DOING_?!" Hugo yelled, his body twitching violently as he tried to get away from Max and Marvin. From the corner of her eye, Roz saw Alex skulking about behind the crowd. " _YOU CAN'T PUT ME OUT THERE I'LL DIE_!"

Max and Marvin dragged Hugo to the centre of the crowd, and left him surrounded by deadly spears.

"I'm sorry, Hugo," Alby said, "We can't risk you hurting anyone else."

Behind Hugo, the Doors started to close, grinding and rolling. Hugo's screams rose above them. Steadily, the Keepers with the spears advanced, pushing Hugo closer to the Doors. Closer to the Maze. He reached the threshold of the Doors, and stopped. Pain crossed all the Keepers faces as they continued forward, a few spears pricking Hugo's side. With all the fear of a wild animal, Hugo let out one last shriek before grabbing Gally's spear and yanking it away. Gally didn't even try to fight back, letting the spear slip easily through his hands. Hugo hugged the spear close to him, before stumbling back into the Maze. And then the Doors closed.

The Gladers stood stock still and silent for almost a full five minutes, no one quite believing what they'd just done. And then Newt dropped his spear and walked away. Boys parted for him as he walked towards the Deadheads. Minho followed suit, dropping his spear and walking towards the Map Room. Within ten seconds, the other Keepers had dropped their spears and left, and then everyone else left. Roz made her way back to her watch tower and climbed up, humming a tune she'd forgotten he name to. At the top of the tower, she pulled her half-finished dog from her pocket, and her knife, and started whittling away.

* * *

 **Thanks fiercetiger333 for the review 3 Uhhh I'm heading back to uni tomorrow, so updates might be coming a little slower. I'm sure I'll find time between crashing freshers week and lectures starting again though. Actually its quite likely I'll be using writing this to procrastinate XD Anyways, please review and let me know what you think :D x**


	15. Chapter 14: Don't Lose Yourself

Chapter 14: Don't Lose Yourself

The Glade was quiet after Hugo's Banishment. Minho came back the next day with a strip of bloodied, yellow fabric; easily recognisable as Hugo's trousers. It took a few days to find two new Runners to take up Hugo's and Alex's place. During those days, Newt and Minho ran themselves ragged, trying to cover both their own and the abandoned section. Newt would then isolate himself in the Map Room for the rest of the evening. He wouldn't even come out for dinner; not when Minho reminded him, not when Jeff pleaded, not when Alby ordered. He just shook his head, barely even looking up, so focused on drawing up and comparing maps. Eventually, Minho ended up bringing him his meals, staying to force him to eat and then leaving him alone again. Eventually, though, they managed to find a couple new Runners. The additional help still didn't stop Newt pushing himself beyond his limits.

While she still wasn't allowed to really do anything, due to her healing ribs, Roz spent most of her day up in the watch tower, whittling away at spare ends of wood Gally gave her. For the first few days, no one seemed to notice her. She'd watch people making their way towards the kitchen for lunch, thinking she really should join then, but she simply couldn't be bothered to move. So she'd just flop down, staring up at the sunless sky, ignoring the hunger pains in her stomach. It wasn't until Frypan realised he hadn't seen her in a couple days that he started sending Jack up to her regularly with food. She gave him a poorly whittled cat as thanks.

"You need to get back to work."

Roz opened her eyes to see Alby looming over her. How she'd missed him climbing the tower she wasn't sure. She hadn't really been paying attention to much these days.

"Jeff gave you the all clear yesterday. You're fit enough to be thrown around by Gally now, so you need to get back to work."

Roz sighed and sat up. She thought about standing up, but didn't think she really had enough energy. Alby gave her an irritated expression.

"Look. You've been up in this tower for almost a week. Don't think we ain't noticed; you're wasting away. It's almost as bad as Newt loosing himself to that shuck Maze." He held out a hand to her. She frowned, her eyebrows creasing together and her throat tightening up. Nothingness pounded against her skull as her mind scrabbled for a reason not to take his hand. Somewhere at the back of her mind, however, tugged down her spine and into her muscles, pulling her fingers, lifting her hand until it touched Alby's. He grasped her hand tightly, not letting it go as he hauled her up. Even then, he didn't let go of her hand, refusing to.

"I ain't lettin' you lose yourself, Roz," he told her, "I ain't. But no one can stop you if you're _insistent_ on stayin' up here in this shuck tower every day _letting_ yourself waste away."

Roz swallowed and licked her lips, looking down at their joined hands. Then she breathed in deeply, and nodded, looking Alby in the eye. He kept his hand clasped tightly around her's, before finally letting it drop.

"C'mon," he said, "We're having another bonfire tonight. I'm sure Gally'd appreciate a hand building it up."

She spent the rest of the day helping Gally and a couple other Builders pile wood up high. Even higher than last time. Mostly, she ignored the worried glances Gally shot her, but eventually she gave him a soft smile and a shrug. He gave her a sympathetic smile, before throwing her another log. And then another one. And then another one. And then another one. She caught the first three, before the fourth sent them spilling out of her hands. She burst out laughing and kicked one of the logs towards Gally, and he threw it up, building the pile even higher.

When Minho came back from the Maze, he made a detour for her on his way to the kitchen, a light smile on his face. "See you're down from your tower," he said. Roz shrugged and smiled slightly.

"Alby came and got me. Reminded me to get my arse into gear." She replied. Minho sighed, almost in relief. Roz quirked her eyebrows, and crossed her arms. "You knew he was gonna come talk to me?"

Minho sighed and ran a hand over his face. "We may have had a conversation the other day," he replied, "Not just about you. We've noticed a few other Gladers… driftin'. You, Newt, Peter, Cal… you've all been… out of it lately. You up in that tower, Newt refusing to tear himself away from the Maze. Peter stole one of Frypan's knives the other week. No matter how many times Frypan takes it back he just gets it again. Cal's sitting in trees all day, like you up in that tower but… we think he's trying to catch those Beetle-Blades. Dunno what he thinks that'll achieve but… well, we're trying to…" He shrugged, dragging a hand over his face. Roz nodded.

"I get it… thank you," she said, "for caring."

Minho smiled, and nodded, before jogging off to the kitchen. She continued to pile up the bonfire as the Builders trickled off for dinner. When the Doors started to rumble, she froze.

Newt wasn't back yet.

She dropped the piece of wood she was holding, and ran towards the nearest door, yelling for Alby. She ran to another door, and stopped, seeing Newt sprinting round the corner. " _NEWT_!" she yelled.

" _I KNOW_!" He yelled back. Desperate, Roz pushed against one of the doors sliding closed, as if she could stop it from closing. " _MOVE YOU SHANK_!" Newt yelled at her. She yelled back at him, wordlessly, reaching out her hands for him. She could feel the doors pressing against her, pushing her across, no matter how much she tried to steady her stance. Newt reached out for her, and grasped her hand, and she pulled him across the threshold. They both collapsed onto the ground, in the Glade, and the doors closed. Roz stared at him, eyes flicking over his face, unsure if he was really there. Newt laid on his back, face pale, eyes squeezed shut, breathing so heavily it was astounding his lungs didn't burst. Sweat poured off his body, drenching his clothing and sticking his hair to his face.

Roz scrambled up, screeching out " _YOU IDIOT! I ALEADY SAID YOU NEED TO START COMING BACK EARLIER OR YOU'LL DIE OUT THERE! WHAT THEN?!_ "

Newt didn't reply. Couldn't, really. So focused on breathing. Roz placed her hands on her knees, tears falling from her face, not noticing the crowd forming around them. Roz fell to her knees, her sobs coming out in heaving gasps. Quietly, Alby, Minho and Max moved the crowd away. And finally, Newt levelled his breathing enough to sit up, and mumble out some words.

"'M sorry," he said, letting his head drop forward, "I know. 'M sorry. Thought I could… further. Get further. Wanted to… get out."

Roz heaved out another sob, and Newt reached forward, dragging his fingers weakly over her shoulder. Alby crouched down next to them.

"C'mon, girl," he hauled her up, and then hauled Newt up, "neither of you have eaten for hours. Go get something to eat. Then we're having the best bonfire this Glade'll ever see."

Roz sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve, and Newt stumbled, looking dizzy. Together, they nodded, and walked slowly to the kitchen. Frypan already had two plates for them, and they took them over to a table in the corner of the room.

"I thought you were gonna die," Roz whispered.

"So did I," Newt replied. Roz looked at him, frowning. He sounded… almost casual.

"You can't die, Newt," Roz said, leaning towards him, "Please. I… we… You're needed here."

Newt swallowed, meeting her eyes, but he didn't reply.

It was then that Gally sauntered over to them, two jars of his golden brew in his hands.

"Heard you guys had a bit of a scare," he said. Newt looked down at his dinner, and Roz shot Gally a dry look. Gally placed the jars on the table for them. "Thought you could use a little pick me up. I'm sure no one will blame you for starting early." He gave them a shrug and a smile, before walking away.

Roz groaned happily and picked up the jar. "I don't care if people blame us, starting early sounds like a _perfect_ idea," she brought the jar to her lips and took a long gulp. Newt watched, amused as she spluttered slightly, and then, with a small smile, took a sip from his own jar.

After dinner, all the Keepers gathered around new bonfire tower. Both Roz and Newt had finished their jar during dinner, and both of them snagged another one off Gally before taking each taking a flaming stick. The Gladers all screamed and cheered, a few, who had spent the last few days perfecting their drums, were already playing music. Alby let out a loud, cheering scream, before counting down from five, the other Gladers joining in. Roz shot Newt a glance. The fire surrounded him, throwing his face into an orange glow and sparking in his eyes. She watched as he took a gulp from his drink, and smiled at her, showing off his teeth. Giddy off the alcohol, she shook her head and grinned, the fire casting her brown hair almost orange, strands flying around her. The fire danced off her neck and shoulders, casting the dip in her collar bone into shadow.

Alby reached one in his count down, and, in the midst of the cheering, Roz leaned back slightly, and then pushed her flaming spear forward. The other Keepers did the same, and the tower burst alight. Roz screeched, before throwing her head back and completely downing her second jar. Newt threw his arm around, laughing, almost manically at the fire. She dropped her hand away from her face, and swayed around Newt, throwing him a smile and going to get more alcohol from the bucket Gally had set up, before being pulled into dancing by Max. She cackled into his shoulder as she picked her up and swung her around. Her drink sloshed slightly over both of them, but neither of them cared.

"You alright?!" he yelled, over the drumming and screaming and crackling fire, "ya been… off the past few days?"

Roz shook her head, downing another half a jar, before replying "yeah nah I just been…" her clouded brain struggled to find the right words, "off yeah. Dunno. Got injured. Couldn't do nothing. Got sad. But I'll be good."

Max nodded, and took a swig from his own drink, "Y'know… y'know I can try and help?" he slurred, "You're my friend. I don't remember if I ever had a sister or a mum but you're like… sismum… mumter… Roz the Glade mumter!" he raised his glass in a toast, and she clanked her own jar against his, shrieking with laughter. Over Max's shoulder, she saw Newt and Minho, both gulping from their jars. Minho choked, dropping his jar and spluttering across the floor. Newt help up a finger and finished draining his jar, before dropping it and fist pumping the air, yelling and grinning. He caught her eye and somehow his yelling became directed at her. He pointed at her and she flung away from Max, hearing him laugh after her. She grabbed another two jars from someone handing them out, and skidded to a stop in front of Newt, handing him one of the jars.

"I just won against Minho!" he yelled at her, pointing to where Minho had made himself very comfortable on the ground, staring at the fire.

"Won what?!" Roz asked. Newt grinned at her.

"I dunno!" He yelled, and knocked back another gulp. Roz cackled, tugging at his hand.

"Come dance!" she pulled him around the fire, drinking as she went, alcohol slopping down her front. She stopped and Newt stumbled into her has she turned around. The fire lit up his alcohol clouded eyes, his face flushed and shining with sweat. He pressed his forehead to her's, his hot breath fanning across her face and he brought a hand up to push the hair sticking to her forehead away from her face. She grinned and leaned away, pulling him into a spin before pushing her body into his again, slipping an arm around his neck and bringing the other hand up to take a swig. His lips curled into a smirk, pushing her further towards the fire. She could feel the head flaring at her back, and Newt pushing up in front of her. The drumming pounded into her ears, the screaming of the Gladers swirling around her, the world hazing. Fire danced across Newt's face in front of her, his forehead bumping against her's every few seconds, both of them giggling under the pounding sound.

The fire burnt at her back and, some instinct, deep under the drunken fog, pulled her away, twisting her and Newt into cooler air. She finished off her Jar, throwing it into the fire with an ecstatic scream. Laughing, Newt followed suit, slinging his arm around her shoulders.

She turned, in search of more alcohol, when something barrelled into both her and Newt, and two jars were thrown in front of their faces. Roz glanced up and saw Gally grinning down at them. Both her and Newt took a new jar, before feeling something else collide into them. Roz stumbled to the side and Minho pressed his face into Newt's neck, giggling at something they hadn't seen happen. And then Max fell into them, pushing them all to the ground. Cackling, other members of the Glade saw the growing pile, and joined, wrapping their arms around other Gladers and nuzzling into other necks and stomachs and shoulders, laughter and shouts rising into the air, mixing with the smoke from the fire, disappearing into the starless sky.

* * *

 **Ah drunken shenanigans. I love 'em. Seriously though, this chapter mentioned some prety heavy stuff, only briefly. You should probably know its only going to get heavier from here on out, y'know; the Glade isn't a happy place and I really want to explore the effects of living there and how the Gladers reacted and coped with it differently. And obviously we have to lead up to and involve canon events. So obviously even though a lot of the things which have and will happen in this fic aren't _good_ coping methods, they are things which people do, which are very common and very frequent. If anything really heavy happens I'll stick a warning at the beginning of the chapter. Despite the rather depressing content of this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it. I want to thank fiercetiger333 and WhovianPotter for their reviews, and, as always I would love it if you could review this chapter. Thanks :) x**


	16. Chapter 15: Perfect Prison

Chapter 15: Perfect Prison

Roz sat in the kitchen, tapping at the table with her small knife, looking intensely at the bird she was carving. She'd gotten surprisingly good over the past couple weeks since she'd began. Now the blocks of wood actually _looked_ like the animals she intended, as opposed chunks of wood with bits carved out. She'd both built up a collection for herself, placing any she wanted to keep on her claimed shelf in the bathroom, and given them out around the Glade. So far, Jack had a cat, Gally had half a bear and a very thin line Roz insisted was a snake, Minho had three dogs, Alby had… _something_ , even Roz couldn't remember what it was supposed to be, and Newt had two cats, one disfigured splodge ("frog. It's a frog," Roz had said. "That ain't a bloody frog, Roz, it's a puddle") and two birds. She was best at birds. She'd almost perfected carving out wings, making them look like they were in mid-flight. Flying up, up, up and out of this Glade. Over the Maze, with no fear of the Grievers, and out into the world.

Holding her tongue beneath her teeth, Roz brought her knife to the block of wood, slicing away carefully to shape the wings. She was so intent in her work she didn't notice Newt and Minho approach her until they sat opposite her, placing their dinners on the table.

"Did you forget about your dinner?" Minho asked, gesturing to the plate of cold sausages and beans set off to the side. Roz glanced up at them, then at her cold dinner, and then back to her bird, grimacing.

"Oops," she muttered. She placed the half-finished bird and knife on the table, and pulled her dinner towards her, picking up a sausage with her fingers. "It's cold," she complained. Newt snorted, stabbing a potato with his fork.

"That's what happens when you, y'know, _don't eat_ ," Newt said.

"Oh you're one to talk!" Roz rolled her eyes, but smiled at him. He'd been looking better the past week or so, since the bonfire. Instead of waking before daybreak, he'd eat breakfast with the rest of the Gladers and seemed less edgy if he wasn't running out into the Maze as soon as a crack appeared in the Doors. He assured everyone he was actually eating lunch in the Maze, instead of coming back with all the food he'd packed that morning because he'd been too focused on running to take breaks. While he still spent a significant time in the Map Room, half the time he actually came out for dinner of his own accord, eating with Roz and Minho and others. There was a colour in his face Roz barely recognised, and the shadows under his eyes were fading slightly, making way for a slight glint in his gaze.

"What you starin' at?" Newt asked, mouth half full, looking confused. Roz snorted, shaking her head.

"Nothing," she replied, "just daydreaming."

"Yeah well, don't daydream at him," Minho said, with a sarcastic grin, "Else he'll start thinking you're daydreaming _about_ him."

Roz shrugged, dropping a sly look over her face. "Perhaps I am," she said. Newt choked on the sausage he was eating, and Roz and Minho burst out laughing, and Minho reached over to slap him on the back. "Sorry man, didn't meant to mortify you," she said, gasping for breath. Newt shook his head, batting her hand away and gulping down his glass of water.

Once Roz had stopped laughing and Newt could breathe properly, Roz went back to whittling away at her bird, pausing every now and then to nibble at her dinner. "Do either of you want this when it's done?" she asked, picking away at the wood to create eyes.

"No offense Roz but I'm still not really sure what to do with the dogs you gave me," Minho said. Roz looked up at him, eyes flat, and stuck her tongue out.

Chuckling, Newt said, "Is it a bird?" Roz nodded. "I'll have it. This one actually _looks_ like something, maybe it'll be good luck."

Roz rolled her eyes, "Hardy har har. If you keep insulting my whittling skills you won't be getting anything else in the future."

"Thank god," Minho muttered. Roz kicked him under the table.

* * *

Nevertheless, a couple days later, when Newt settled down by the trees for the evening, Roz wandered over and dangled a completed wooden bird in front of his face.

"For good luck," she said, dropping it in his hands. Newt held it up and looked it over, handling it carefully in his fingers. It was still rather shaky and shoddy, like most of Roz's woodwork, but it was a mile better than the previous things she'd thrown at him. The birds wings were stretched widely, like it was soaring, and its beak pointed straight forward. If Roz had been a better artist, the look of determination she'd wanted to carve into its face would have been more apparent. Still, Newt smiled down at it.

"Thanks, Roz," he said.

"No problem," Roz replied, falling down next to him.

* * *

The guesses made when Jack came to the Glade were proven true, when another alarm went off and another boy arrived. Again, Newt spent most of the day trying to coax the boy out of the Box. The new Greenie was more receptive than Jack though, and was being pulled into the Glade just after lunch.

"Why aren't there any girls here?" The Greenie asked as Alby showed him around the Glade. Roz, who had been patrolling with Max, popped up behind them.

"There are," she said. The Greenie jumped, violently, and looked at her with fear. Alby looked over his shoulder at her with an amused expression as she snorted and crossed her arms. "Just me though. Just the one. And no, we don't know why."

Alby steered the Greenie away towards the Homestead, and Roz rolled her eyes. "I'm gonna have to get used to that question," she muttered.

"Y'know sometimes I forget you're a girl," Max said, looking up at the sky and pulling a face. Roz frowned, and looked down.

"Yeah, so do I," she replied.

* * *

"Gally, you got us into this mess, you get us out," Minho ordered, rubbing his temples. Gally snorted from where he was lounging against the remains of another bonfire. They'd become something or a regular occurrence now. Every few weeks, the Builders would set up the pyre, Gally would make his brew, and the Gladers would use it as an excuse to forget they were stuck in a prison. The next day pretty much the entire Glade would then wallow in their hangovers.

"Not my fault you took it upon yourself to drink an entire bucket, shank," Gally replied. Max and Daniel gave Minho a judgemental look. Although the movement seemed to cause Daniel some pain, as he blanched, and buried his face in Max's stomach. Max snorted, running his hand through Daniel's hair.

" _Lunch_ ," Roz sang, walking over to them with Newt, both of them carrying several plates of food. Minho stared down at the plate of beans on toast Roz had given him, before grimacing, standing up, and running off.

"Dibs not going to help the vomiting dude," Roz said casually, stretching her legs out and taking a bite of the sandwich she had.

* * *

Of course, the effects of bonfires always wore off. And, the more they had, the quicker they did, it seemed. It seemed that nowadays, Roz's arms and sides were constantly riddled with bruises from where Gladers had struck her in attempts to avoid the Slammer. Newt cast her concerned looks at breakfast and dinner, when he actually turned up, of course, trying to figure out whether the shadows under her eyes were from a lack of sleep or black eyes from being punched in the face.

They had been lucky, they suppose, with the past few Greenies. They had all been paralysed with fear, not able to move out of the box because of shaking, allowing Newt and Alby time to earn their trust and calm them down.

This time, however, they weren't so lucky.

The Greenie shot out of the Box as soon as Max and Roz had hauled the doors open, shooting across the Glade.

Several Gladers chased after him, but the shock at his escape attempt had caused a serious delay. The Greenie was almost at the doors when he was tackled to the ground by Gally, who, instead of trying to catch a glimpse of the fresh blood, had, instead, opted to get himself a larger breakfast, knowing Frypan wouldn't be in the kitchen to stop him taking extra food.

The Greenie yelled, struggling under Gally, but he wasn't let up until Alby and Newt jogged over to them. Roz watched from afar as Alby and Newt tried to talk to the Greenie, who was looking around anxiously, bouncing on his feet, twitching at every little noise.

Half way through the day, he disappeared. Roz, with a sigh and a roll of her eyes, sent her Baggers to look for him. Max reported back half an hour later saying he'd found the Greenie curled up in the Deadheads, rocking, muttering to himself, refusing to come out. Roz waved him off, informed Alby, before climbing her watch tower for the first time in weeks to get some peace and quiet.

She came down a few hours later, though, when she saw Alby throwing glances up at her. She didn't want to deal with him chastising her for slacking off again.

(Even though she knew, somewhere, in the back of her mind that the last time hadn't been that. It had been concern that had bought Alby up to haul her back down to solid ground. Something forced herself to ignore that tiny, logical part though. After all, no one else in the Glade ran away to towers when they were fed up. Why should she be allowed that luxury?)

* * *

That night, the Gladers sleeping closest to the Box were woken by a swish and a scream. Scared and anxious, they approached the open Box, and looked down. One of them screamed.

* * *

The next day, they buried the Greenie with a sheet of glass over his grave. Only the Baggers and Alby were at the burial. No one really wanted to see half a shank in a hole, as a warning to future shanks to _not try and escape down the shuck Box Hole we already tried that slintheads it's not a good idea_!

Max and Daniel sat at Edward's grave for two hours, piling leaves up around his cross in place of flowers, apologising to him for not being able to stop someone else meeting his same fate.

* * *

"Do you ever think… I mean I… Hmm…"

"Think what?" Newt asked, looking over at Roz. He was beginning to look tired and pale again. Hell, both of them were. They were both having trouble falling asleep recently. Roz had taken to climbing her tower once the Glade darkened, thinking maybe her safe haven during the day could be the same during the night. When Newt had woken up from his half sleep earlier that night, he'd noticed Roz wasn't lying next to him like usual, and had set out to find her.

Roz sighed, looking up at the starless sky. "Our life here it's… _technically_ it's perfect," she said, and, seeing the look of disbelief and anger flash over Newt's face, hurried to carry on, "I mean. We have everything provided for us. Food, water, shelter, supplies. The weather here is perfect; have you noticed it never rains? But our crops still grown. We get medical supplies. We get clothes. We…"

"But we're _trapped_ here, Roz!" Newt exclaimed, "This is… it's a _prison_!"

"I know," Roz swallowed, "that's what I'm trying to say. But then what if… what if this is less of a prison and… more a sanctuary?"

Newt looked at her blankly, "What the shuck are you on about."

"A Griever's never come into the Glade right? Those Walls protect us. They close at night and… well… what if this is it. What if the world outside is nothing but the Maze. We don't remember _anything_ Newt. Including why we were sent here. What if… what if we were sent here to be safe? From something horrible _out there_. I just…"

Newt was shaking his head. "I refuse to believe that." he said. His face was full of hate and his voice was a snarl. "Whoever put us here? _They're_ still safe, aren't they? _They_ send us supplies. _They_ made the Maze. Nah, they're not keeping us _safe_ , they're keeping us _here_ for some… some… some _sick reason_!"

" _Shh_ , Newt, everyone else is asleep," Roz placed a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and he stared wildly at the sky. Eventually, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes, looking down.

"We're not staying here Roz. We're not. And whatever the world is like… it's better than _this_ ," he spat, "and we're getting out. I'm getting out. I will get out. No matter what. I refuse to stay here." He started shaking his head, "I. refuse."

* * *

 **I... am not too sure how I feel about this chapter. Its obviously very much a filler, to fill in the gaps of time passing, so by the end of the chapter they've all been in the Glade for about 5/6 months. Thank you to fiercetiger333, CloakSky10213 and starkqueen for the reviews :D as always, I'd love to hear what you think! x**


	17. Interlude: RE: The Six Month Mark

Interlude: RE: The Six Month Mark

TO: My Associates

FROM: Ava Paige, Chancellor

RE: The Six Month Mark

I'm sure you'll all agree that these first six months have flown by. Both groups are responding to the Maze and the Variables mostly as expected. Of course, we all know that if reactions divert from estimates it is no necessarily bad. Each day brings us one step closer to our goal.

As expected, many subjects have been developing negative brain patterns and behaviours, but what is truly astounding is, despite these issues they face, they have not given up yet. This is exactly what we want; what we _need_. We can only hope that they continue to carry on, especially in face of future Variables.

I'm sure you will all recall the plans to introduce another Variable into the Mazes. I am pleased to say that our scientists have finally finished creating the illness, ensuring it will only target certain Subjects, allowing for others to remain healthy, while still feeling the fear of infection. They have also succeeded in ensuring the illness is not completely life-threatening. Tomorrow we will finalise our discussions surrounding this, before following through.

I would also like to discuss the Variables of Subjects A23 and B23. It truly is astounding how each group has responded extremely differently to their Variable. I'm sure you all recall Subject A23's self-isolation several months ago, which was cut short by her fellow Subjects. As you all know, Subject B23 has similarly been self-isolating himself. However, Group B are not taking the same measures as Group A to stop this. Tomorrow I would like to discuss whether this is more to do with the Variables themselves and their personalities, or the other Subjects and their communities either allowing or disallowing for the Variables.

I look forward to hearing all your thoughts.

* * *

 **Hey! Sorry for the gap between the last chapter and this one, but things with uni finally got on their way and I've also been job hunting, so free time is few and far between :( The next chapter will be up in an hour or two though, I just need to read through and edit it, so look out for that. Thank you to fiercetiger333 and AliceInNeverland95 for the reviews, and, as always, any comments would be much appreciated :D x**


	18. Chapter 16: Illness

Chapter 16: Illness

"You alright, Max? You're looking kinda pale," Roz asked. Her and Max had just thrown a couple boys who'd taken a bet in who could chop the most wood a bit too far, resulting in two very angry, splinter riddled boys.

"Yeah, I'm just," Max stood up straight, winced, and rubbed his forehead, "think I'm coming down with something."

Roz frowned, peering at him. In addition to his unusually pale skin, he also looked tired, and slightly sweaty. "Let's go and see Jeff. I've gotta see if he can pull all the splinters outta these shanks anyway," she nodded to the boys in the Slammer, both of whom were now slumped on the floor, looking rather moody.

When her and Max entered the Med-jack hut, they were surprised to see about five other boys spread out across the cots. Jeff looked up as they entered, and sighed.

"Oh, no, not you two as well," he muttered.

"Uh, what?" Roz asked. Jeff wiped his hands on a towel and came over to them, tossing a bottle of painkillers over to one of the cots.

"Shanks are getting sick left right and centre. Nothin' serious so far but obviously something's spreading across this shuck Glade like no one's business." He explained. Roz looked over the boys. They all looked pale and tired. A few of them were complaining quietly to themselves.

"Uh, no Max is sick but not me. I just needed someone to go over to the Slammer; couple slintheads got into a fight around wood. Need the splinters taken out."

Jeff nodded, and looked over his shoulder. "Clint! You're needed over by the Slammer." The new Med-jack, a boy who had come up in the box a couple of months ago, popped up from behind a table, and hurried over to them. Max was sent to sit on a cot, and Roz took Clint over to the Slammer. She left him to deal with the splinter-riddled Builders, and made her way over to Gally, asking if she could help make up the numbers he'd lost.

"Yeah sure, we could use some help nailing all this crap together," he gestured around, "those two shanks in the Slammer and another one's off in the Med-jack hut. It's ridiculous."

"Why's everyone suddenly getting ill?" Roz asked. Gally shrugged.

"Dunno, but I tell ya, if it happens to me, I ain't having it."

"You can't decide whether you catch a bug or not, Gally," Roz said, rolling her eyes. He looked at her and rose an eyebrow.

" _You_ might not be able to," he said, "but I sure as hell can. And will."

Roz snorted at his cocky grin, before snatching the hammer he was holding out of his hands and getting to work.

* * *

Within a few days, about a quarter of the Gladers had been struck by the illness. The Homestead had become a temporary secondary Med-jack hut, with both Clint and Jeff, both of whom were thankfully still healthy, running like headless chickens between the two buildings.

Roz sat on the ground, carving away at her newest wooden animal, next to where Newt was gearing up to go into the Maze for the day, slipping on the new running shoes the Runners had requested the previous week. He stumbled slightly, squeezed his eyes shut, before opening them and grimacing.

"Alright, mate?" Roz asked, looking up at him, concerned.

"Yeeeeaaahhh," he replied, running a hand through his hair. Roz frowned.

"Did you get sick?" she asked.

"Naaaaah," Newt replied, rolling his head to the side and messaging his neck. Roz stood up, pocketing her knife and wood. She took Newt's face softly in her hands, turning him to face her, and brushing a hand along his forehead. Heat waved into her palm. While he usually looked pale and tired, it seemed different today. Roz sighed, and pulled back.

"You're sick," she stated.

" _I'm not_ ," Newt said, almost wining. Roz huffed and grabbed his hand tightly in her own.

"C'mon, Med-jack hut. You can't run if you're sick you'll either make yourself worse or get into danger. Or both." She pulled him along, ignoring his groanings and complaints. When they got to the Med-jack hut, Jeff looked up and sighed as Roz nodded to Newt, who now had his arms crossed and was staring moodily at the ground.

"I can't figure out what it is," Jeff said, guiding Newt over to the cot he kept free for new arrivals, "At first I thought it was a… cold? Y'know when you know something but don't remember _how_ you know it?"

Roz snorted, "Tell me about it."

"Anyways," Jeff continued, busying himself with checking Newt over and sorting through painkillers, "at first I thought a cold. But like I don't understand how. We're cut off here. How would an illness get in? Anyways, it's not a cold. I don't think. It just seems different. A few sorry shanks have been vomiting. A few a passing out. It's getting worse each day. I don't know what it is and I don't know how to cure it. All I can do it throw painkillers at people." He looked desperate and tired. If he didn't get sick because of whatever was going round, soon the exhaustion would catch up with him.

"When can I get back to running?" Newt asked. Jeff sighed.

"Well, no one who got sick has gotten better yet, so no time soon." Newt groaned and flopped back on the bed. Roz frowned at him, stopping herself from saying how she was happy he was getting a break.

"I'll go let Minho know," she said, nodding to Jeff before leaving. She rolled her head around, trying to ignore the headache starting at the bottom of her skull.

* * *

Newt spent the next couple days locked away in the Map Room. If he couldn't run, he could at least do _something_ useful. The Runners had recently discovered that the changes in the Maze repeated themselves, so he spent hours on end shuffling papers across each other, trying to match them up, to see if he could find anything. Of course, he's sure he'd be making a lot more progress if the pages hadn't been blurring in front of his eyes.

Sighing, he dropped the map he was looking at on the table and closed his eyes, rubbing his temples. Whatever he'd caught made him feel like something was cracking his skull open, and he'd spent the last few hours pushing down the nausea building up in his stomach and chest, resisting the urge to throw up like he'd spent the majority of the morning. Opening his eyes, he picked up the bottle of painkillers and unscrewed the bottle, tipping it over his hands. When nothing came out, he shook it violently, and then peered inside. He rolled his eyes when he found nothing inside.

Groaning, he pushed himself away from the table, pausing and leaning over it to try and stop from heaving. After a few deep breaths to settle his stomach, he opened the door and winced as the brightness from outside stabbed his eyes. After making sure the daylight wasn't going to make him throw up or go blind, he stepped out of the Map Room and started traipsing over to the Med-jack hut. As he walked, paying close attention to his breathing, he saw Roz over by the Homestead, talking to Daniel. He frowned at her.

Despite Roz's constant concerns about him, she didn't seem to realise that she always looked just as bad, if not even worse sometimes, especially whenever she retreated to her tower. Her skin was pallid, almost transparent, and the bruises she received while breaking up fights stood out harshly. She had a new one blooming across her jaw, the dark purple mottling her face. And she looked _tired_. He knew he ran himself to exhaustion in the Maze, and she berated him for it constantly, but she didn't realise that keeping the peace between thirty teenage boys took as much a toll on her as running did on him. He knew neither of them slept well. Sometimes they would both climb up to her tower so they could talk more freely without worrying about waking anyone. Other times they would whisper to each other, talking nonsense. A new turn Newt had taken in the Maze, a new bruise Roz received. Other times they would both just lie there together, matching their breathing and brushing their hands against each other every now and then.

As he watched, Roz looked down at the ground drowsily, holding up a hand to stop Daniel from talking. Then she swayed slightly. And then she collapsed.

Newt heard Daniel yelp as he rushed forward to catch her. Newt ran towards them, ignoring the growing nausea in his chest, staggering to a stop in front of them as Daniel laid Roz softly on the ground. Her eyelids were fluttering pathetically, and he could see her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

"Is she sick?" Newt demanded, crouching down next to her and Daniel.

"I-I-I-I don't know!" Daniel babbled, and then he yelled over his shoulder in desperation for someone to get a Med-jack.

"She looks sick…" Newt muttered, his hands running over her face and through her hair, "she looks terrible."

"She always looks sick!" Daniel said, before standing up and running to find help. Newt tried to stay by Roz, running his hands through her hair and over her burning forehead, but the world lurched around him. He squeezed his eyes shut, curling in on himself, mentally forcing his stomach back down. He opened his eyes again to see Daniel and Clint running towards him, but they were tipping. The entire world was tipping and his head was spinning and dots were clouding up his vision. He breathing sped up before halting, and no matter how much he tried to force his lungs to open again, all he could do was choke on nothing.

"Newt! Newt I need you to open your eyes!" someone said, somewhere far away. He hadn't even realised he'd closed them. Bright, colourful lights danced across his vision. Someone yelled his name again, but it was drowned out by thick fuzzing. He thought he felt something press against his throat and his head, pushing through the haze, trying to pull him back. But they failed.

* * *

Roz felt herself swirling back into consciousness. Her eyes fluttered open, and she found herself looking up at the dim ceiling of one of the tiny rooms in the Homestead. She breathed in carefully, grimacing at how the air disagreed with her stomach. She frowned harshly up at the ceiling, focusing on making her breathing as soft and unintrusive as possible. After a while of just lying there, she carefully pushed herself up, bringing a hand up to hold her head.

"Mornin'." She looked over and saw Newt sitting on the edge of the bed opposite. His shoulders were tense and he was looking at her heavily, blinking slowly. In the dimness of the room, Roz could see a yellow tinge to his skin, and a clammy sheen of sweat sweeping his face.

"Wha' happened," Roz muttered. Newt took a moment to reply, trying to gather the energy and also to avoid throwing up.

"You passed out," he said, "outside the Homestead. Then so did I. Then so did three other people. Then I woke up ten minutes ago. Then Jeff checked up on us. Then you just woke up."

"I'm sick?" she asked. Newt nodded, grunting slightly. Roz groaned, and laid back down on her own bed, curling up. She began to shiver slightly, feeling her clothes and hair cling to her clammy skin. "What is this crap," she whispered.

"Dunno but it bloody sucks," Newt said. He closed his eyes and leaned forward to drop his head between his knees. Roz cracked a weak smile.

"Thrown up yet?" she asked.

"All morning. Please don't make me think about it." He breathed in sharply through his nose and sat up again. Roz muttered an apology, and Newt waved her off.

Jeff came back to check up on them an hour or so later, bringing them both a bowl of soup. He informed them that pretty much every spare bed in the Glade was taken up by sick Gladers. They ranged from simply having a splitting headache, to having passed out and waves of nausea, like Newt and Roz, to full on unconsciousness and near constant vomiting. He left, telling them very sternly to eat their soup, even if they didn't feel like it.

Roz continued to lie on her bed, staring at the steaming soup on the table in front of her. Newt gripped his own bowl between his hands, frowning at it.

"Please tell me you also feel like you're going to throw it all up as soon as you eat it?" Roz said.

"I feel like I'm going to throw up just looking at it," Newt replied, sounding disgusted as he placed the bowl on the table. Roz snorted, and then regretted it, as she felt a lurch in her stomach. She sighed, pulling the thin blanket over her head.

* * *

Jeff came back that evening to find them both sleeping, facing each other, and two cold, full bowls of soup on the table between them. He sighed, picked up the bowls, and left a bottle of painkillers before leaving.

* * *

Roz and Newt spent the next couple days lying in the dim room in the Homestead. Several times, Newt tried to leave, insistent he could survive in the Map Room, only to be dragged back after passing out or vomiting. Roz was content to just lie in bed however, slipping in and out of consciousness.

"Newt, I honestly admire your determination," she mumbled, the third time Clint bought him back, "but I don't think you're gonna win this time, darlin'."

"I hate being cooped up in here," he muttered back.

"I know, Newt. Sucks."

When Jeff came in later that same day, Roz could instantly tell something was wrong. His face was drawn and he looked exhausted.

"Please tell me you ain't getting sick too," Roz asked. Jeff shook his head. Newt sat up slightly to look at him with a questioning look. Jeff hesitated.

"…Samuel's dead…" he whispered. Roz sat up fully, looking at him wide eyed.

"Because of the… being sick?" she asked. Jeff nodded. Newt and Roz looked at each other, fear and dread filling their eyes

"I… I'm doing everything I can, I promise," Jeff said, "no one else is going to die. I'm going to get you all better."

He left, muttering about needing to check up on everyone else. Roz swallowed, pressing her hands over her mouth. After a full minute of tense silence, she lowered them. "This is… this is going to kill us," she whispered.

"We… no we're not. We're gonna get better," Newt said, but the uncertainty was clear under his words.

"Newt this illness is killing us. It killed Samuel. Jeff isn't a doctor he's said that enough times we're _going to die_." Roz babbled, her voice rising in volume as her breathing became ragged, "The Creators want to kill us. They want to kill us this is just some _sick game to see how long it takes to kill us all off its-_ "

"Hey, hey, hey," Newt muttered, slipping off his bed. He made his way over to her, shakily, and fell onto the bed next to her, pulling her into his arms. "We're gonna be fine. We can't… we can't die. Not here. Not yet. The Creators won't kill us. They won't. This illness isn't going to kill us. I refuse."

He stayed holding her as her breathing slowly evened out and she stopped shaking. Her eyes flicked about the room fearfully, as if something might suddenly jump out and attack them. Finally, she swallowed once, and then twice, and let out a heavy breath.

"I am astounded by your determination," She whispered. She clung to him, her fingers fisting onto his clothing and he wrapped his arms around her tightly, both of them shivering violently. Newt murmured reassurances into Roz's hair until, slowly, they both passed out again.

* * *

 **Did I ever tell you guys that foreshadowing is like my favourite thing ever :) Thanks to CloakSky10213 for reviewing the last chapter; I am honestly you got in so soon, but I'm not complaining. I also wouldn't complain if anyone reviews this chapter ;)**


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